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loveemagicpeace · 5 months

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🎸Mars Energy🎸

⚡️Mars is a powerful figure in mythology. Mars on me represents the principle factor, the energy we need to make us encourages to action. It gets us out of bed every morning and helps us achieve our goals throughout the day. It is also our representation of masculinity, as Venus is our representation of femininity. Both men and women need a well-functioning Mars to feel that we are powerful and that we have life in our hands. Mars needs challenges, and not just in battle or dispute, but also in physical activities, such as competitive games and sports or any field, at with which we can flex our muscles and compete with others to win. Like Venus, Mars is also associated with the sexual attraction and sexual relations, and both planets they reveal us approach to sexuality and courtship. In this, Mars especially delights in pursuit and conquest.

⚡️Unlike Venus, it is not relationship-oriented and can lose interest as soon as it conquers an object/person. Unless he runs into competitors then he starts fighting. The energy of Mars indicates how we behave and react. How we compete, how we win someone over and what our charm is. Mars shows how we keep our vibrancy and energy alive. The position of Mars in the chart shows our way of pursuing (the object & person we want). Mars is an indicator of what kind of men, and Venus, what kind of women we get involved with. Although many times relationships are influenced by both.

Mars is known for its lust for dominance, but it can be overbearing and tempting to impose one's will on others. Mars represents our primal passions, inclusive with anger. But Mars can also get you in trouble sometimes. It is important to release our anger. This is very important for our health, because we can get seriously ill if we suppress these energies. Suppressing anger is a matter of course associated with health problems such as stress and depression. The ability to exercise our will and achieve what we want is a talent in itself that we have to learn. After a period of learning from mistakes we start in our thirties and forties after we tend to use Mars more skillfully to our advantage.

🎡Aries Mars is particularly monotonous, spontaneous and quick to act according to his will. It can also catch fire spontaneously,and explosive moments are followed by calm ones, because anger usually does not last long. You have a fiery and strong approach to your desires. Usually when you want something you want to get it by any means. When it comes to competition, you are very competitive and forget about others. You put more emphasis on physical pleasure.

🦋Scorpio Mars has a strong will, but he has more control over the planning and execution of his actions, so he is more precise and efficient. Mars in Scorpio is usually expressed with the words and emotions, and less with fighting. Sexual expression is important for both signs, but Mars in Scorpio loves more emotionally. When it comes to love, he becomes very self-sacrificing. He will do anything for the person he loves. But when he is deceived, he can become your worst enemy. He is intense, passionate, combative and persistent, but his energy only shows when he really feels someone.

🧁Mars in mutable watery Pisces will be rather gentle and passive and will find it difficult to express itself decisively. He may hold back his anger so as not to upset others, and he may act less directly, he may even act like a victim to make others feel guilty and let us get our way. But many times you can make emotional sacrifices for other people or give them too much and then you are disappointed. Mars in Pisces is at its best when alone. You can isolate yourself a lot from other people.

🥨Mars in an earth sign, such as fixed Taurus, can be very calm and slow to respond, but with slow and patient steps he advances towards what he wants. Like a bull, it can be charged with enormous energy and charge at an attacker when angered or threatened. Mars in Taurus can also be very passionate and lustful, which makes him an emperor an exquisite and extremely patient lover.

✨Capricorn mars tends to be very competitive when it comes to business, success, money, reputation. You will want to achieve the biggest and be the best. When it comes to love, they can be quite cold sometimes. Many times they can put the business before the person. Their anger is usually not expressed, many times they keep it inside. Their nature is not so much focused on several things but on only one. It's the same in love - you like to invest in someone who seems stable and worth your time. They are not people who like to go on dates.

☁️Cancer Mars they have a very emotional response to things around them. You can hurt them quickly. They like to invest their time in their family, people close to them. They don't like average relationships. Many times their energy is emotional. Their anger is responsive in many ways but can also change quickly. They are a sign that can quickly forgive (even if it doesn't seem like it at first). They love stalking people. And when they want something, they will go anywhere to get it. They can do some pretty crazy stuff.

🥤Virgo Mars show practicality, decision-making and thinking. They know how to work hard for what they want if their desire is very strong. They put a lot of emphasis on hygiene, health, routine and lifestyle. They tend to dislike people who smoke or have strange habits. Many times they notice little things in people. They devote a lot of energy to staying in good health, but that's precisely why they can get sick. Because they can deal with it too much.

🥊Sagittarius Mars their energy is manifested through the will to live. They are the people who will always make you smile and make you feel that there is only one life and you can make the most of it. Spontaneous people and many times make an impulsive decision, which many times turns out to be good. They laugh a lot and are optimistic. They give a lot of energy to travel, spirituality, playfulness, learning, new things. Their approach is often optimistic, although they can have a lot of anger behind it. However, since this is a fiery sign, they can be impulsive, react violently, directly, rudely. They are tough opponents and when they set a goal they will achieve it. They can be very competitive when it comes to something they are passionate about. Or when it comes to a person who means a lot to them. They are not afraid to confront people and will always want quick actions and reactions. They almost never get sick, but that's because they are optimists.

🪂Leo Mars their energy is manifested through a passion for playfulness, childhood, fun. They put a lot of effort into having fun and enjoying the things they love. They have many hobbies. They can be possessive and jealous, but they won't show it right away. A lot depends on the energy they want to feel with the person. When they notice that the person they want has fans, they will become even more competitive. They will be most competitive in sports or love. Many times they will want to conquer you with their dominance. They are not afraid of challenges and will step into them without fear if they are mature enough. They are fighting and persistent in themselves. Actions count for them.

🎢Gemini Mars their energy is very mutable. They are all over the place most of their time. And they need a lot of change but they are most good with words than actions. They will talk much more than actually do. They can be very unstable and change their mind many times. They will often compete when it comes to verbal duels. Even at school, they know how to compete. Their health fluctuates because they can become quite anxious at times or think too much about things they cannot change. They can seduce you with mind games.

🫧Libra Mars their energy usually shows through the relationships but can be different kind of relationship it doesn't meant to be like romantic relationship. It can be friendships. If they are not in a relationship, they can give a lot of their energy to their friends. Their anger is usually passive aggressive. They often avoid conflicts because they like peace. Their passive aggressive behavior can lead to them getting sick (because they keep too much anger inside). It is good for them to express their feelings and anger as much as possible.

⛸️Aquarius Mars their energy is focused on humanitarian matters (they like to help others), dreams, goals, social networks. They like to do the things they like. They also like to be alone. They have rebellious kind of anger so they will fight for the rights or people they love or things that are connected to them. But they are not people who fight about I don't know some random stuff. They have the unique way how to seduce people and it's always different. They can also seduce you with their uniqueness or something about that is so different and this is why people are attracted to them somehow. They can work a lot on staying in shape and following themselves. Because they can get sick unexpectedly. Many times the diseases are very strange.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🍸🎸🧁

#astrology #energy #zodiac signs #planets #my notes #astrological houses #astrology observations #mars energy #fire mars #fighting spirit

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t1red-twilight · 9 days

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1.5 pints

summary: you get injured on a case and spencer is…worried to say the least.

warnings/content: gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, medically inaccurate (i googled stuff but idk), spencer has ptsd, reader is implied to maybe have ptsd, cannon typical violence/injury (bullet wound), reader has self destructive traits, spencer is worried and quite overbearing, non-sexual nudity, spencer passenger princess confirmed, idiots pining over each other, like a significant amount of pining, friends totally share a bed regularly, that’s so normal and platonic, reader is an unreliable narrator at times, lmk if i missed anything<3

word count: 1.4k

masterlist

you had gotten injured after a case. it wasn’t anything serious, you had just gotten grazed by a bullet on your upper arm on your dominant side. it stung like a bitch, and bled quite a bit, but it wasn’t anything to cry over. even still, you were bandaged by paramedics before being sent on your way.

the case hadn’t been far from quantico, just a forty-five minute drive or so. spencer had silently insisted on sitting next to you in the suv. the air was awkward. not uncomfortable, per se, it was just that everyone in the car could feel that spencer was definitely upset.

once back at quantico, everyone split up to go to their homes. hotch informed everyone that you would all have the next day off. you searched through your go-bag for your car keys, when you suddenly felt a presence behind you.

spencer’s natural scent of linen and citrus would always be familiar to you. you’d recognize it anywhere. “hey spence.”

“how’d you know it was me?”

you turned around, shrugging. “lucky guess,” you smiled a lopsided smile. there was a momentary pause.

“is your arm okay?”

chuckling lightly, you shifted your weight onto one foot. “yeah, i’m alright. do you need anything?”

he was avoiding eye contact more than usual. “i think you should come over to my place tonight.”

you quirked an eyebrow. there was this unspoken arrangement the two of you had; you’d switch off spending the night at each other’s apartments. it had started when spencer began having ptsd-fueled nightmares again and you had recurring bouts of insomnia. and this consisted of sleeping in the same bed, to comfort each other.

“yeah?” there was an overwhelming feeling that he was more upset than he was leading on, and this was even more evident considering his behavior on the ride back to quantico.

“…yeah. i just want to make sure you’re okay.”

you snorted. “of course you do, spencer.” he finally looked up and resumed eye contact.

“what do you mean?”

“i don’t mean anything.” you twirled your keys around your finger, chuckling lightly at the thought of spencer being caught up in what was to you, a very minuscule injury. gesturing to your car, you add on, “well, we should get going then.”

he walked around to the driver’s side of the car and motioned for your keys. spencer wasn’t very keen on driving; he much preferred his passenger princess privileges and tendencies. confusion and minor amusement flooded your features. “you want to drive?”

“uh, yeah. you shouldn’t be lifting your arm, it could tear your stitches.” the sass in his tone almost made you double take.

“hey, i think i’ll be fine, okay? you don’t have to worry about me because i got scratched.” your tone was more genuine but still held a playful element. he sighs and looks a little incredulous.

“just let me drive. please.” taken aback, you hand over the keys and walk over to the passenger side. you raise your dominant arm to open the door. spencer quickly rushes over to open the door for you. “please don’t.”

“uh, okay,” you reply in a quieter voice. as you buckle your seatbelt, spencer gets into the drivers side seat. he somehow finds a classical station on the radio (it’s not all too surprising that he probably has them memorized), and the rest of the ride goes on without a hitch or bump.

when you arrive at his apartment, spencer runs to your side of the car. he opens your door for you, and helps you out of the car. “you don’t have to baby me, spence.” he mumbles out a response. “what?” you question back.

“can you please take this seriously?” your eyes widen at his more stern timbre. a semi-sarcastic thumbs up is all you give him.

the walk up to his apartment is exceedingly more tense. you try to focus more in the scent of the old building rather than spencer’s apparent disappointment in you. the building smells like, well, old building, and the floor creaks fifteen times on the way to the elevator and to his front door.

you both cross the threshold and he sets his crossbody bag down near the entryway. you didn’t bring up your go bag, as you have plenty of things at his apartment already.

he grabs your hand and leads you to his bedroom. he proceeds to hand you some pajamas: an old mit shirt and soft shorts that you left prior. you wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t. “are you going to let me change?” he looks at you exasperatedly.

“you can’t move your arm.”

“yes. i can.”

“you can, but you shouldn’t. please let me help you.” you just about roll your eyes, but you stop yourself.

“i can undress myself. i just got grazed.” you’re getting more annoyed.

“grazed? you almost fell over from the blood loss. morgan had to hold you up. the average human body has around ten pints of blood and you lost one and a half- that’s 15%. that’s not a graze-“

your eyebrows raise. he was taking this very seriously. “the bullet didn’t penetrate. i didn’t need a transfusion, and it was by no means fatal in any way.” injuries like this have occurred before on the team, and the team has recovered.

“yes, but if you lost 5% more blood, you might have lost consciousness and needed a transfusion. can you please take this seriously?”

surprisingly, you didn’t respond immediately. spencer, and everyone for that matter, had known you to be quite stubborn and not known to back down.

“you got shot. you should be taking this more seriously.”

“you could barely even consider it a shot, spencer. besides, it’s better me than anyone else.”

his eyes widen. “how can you be so reckless?” you don’t respond at all this time. you just look down at the clothes in your hands.

“please,” he quietly says your name, “you just really mean a lot to me. i don’t want anything to happen to you.”

if your eyebrows weren’t high before, they sure as hell were now. “can you promise me? that you’ll take your health into consideration more? i have no clue what i’d- what the team would do without you.”

his slip-up does not go unnoticed. “okay.” you swallow your pride. “i will.”

he sighs in relief. “now please, let help you.” his eyes glance up from the floor to meet yours. you nod and he steps closer. both of your movements are awkward as he places his hands on the buttons of your shirt. he unbuttons it quite slowly, and pulls it down your arms.

he’d seen you in more compromising situations before, so this is nothing new. “put your arms out, but not up, please.” he then proceeds to put his old college alumni shirt over your arms first before pulling it over your head. “i think, you can, uh, put the shorts on yourself. just don’t lift your arms too high.”

“i won’t. i promise.” you give what you think is a convincing smile and he leaves to the bathroom.

when he returns, he is also dressed for bed. he guides you to the bathroom to brush your teeth. he babies you as much as is physically possible, but you draw the line at him brushing your teeth for you.

“dude. i’ll be careful. i’ll just use my other arm.” the task proves to be weird and uncoordinated.

you both finish brushing your teeth at about the same time. you follow him to the bedroom.

his feet pad across the carpet softly. the socks he’s wearing isn’t shocking to you at all; it’s a habit of his he’s gotten used to. he turns on his lamp on the side table, and turns out the big light.

he draws back the covers before you can, and you swing you legs onto the bed. you pull the covers up to your chin before he can tuck you in or something. one can only handle being babied for so long, after all.

he has one of those fancy dimming lamps. it casts a soft glow over the room without being too overwhelming. and because he likes it this way, so do you.

he turns onto his side and places his hands under his pillow. you begin to turn onto your side, but he stops you. “don’t put too much pressure on it.” you compromise by turning your head towards him.

his eyes are big and his lips are slightly parted. his breathing is deep and slow. you don’t know who falls asleep first, just that you both slowly inched closer so that eventually there was only about two fingers worth of space between you.

#i’m so normal about spencer #everyone in this just lowkey needs a hug #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #fluff #spencer reid fluff #x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #fanfic #hurt/comfort

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anantaru · 11 months

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— yandere honkai star rail boys

including blade, jing yuan, luocha, sampo x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — yandere, angsty, toxic, manipulation

— blade

yandere! blade, who won't ever leave your side in the early stages of your relationship, but the smoldering question, the raging reason as to why was deeply purled in an ulterior, much scarier motive.

it's not because of him owning possessive traits, well, he sure did but the motivation behind gracefully aiding you in everything you may require, always showing up to your doorstep whenever you wanted him to with that big, delicate smile on his handsome face and blessing you with sweet gifts of all kind, his reasoning was contrasting.

at any rate, blade can continuously see that you're slowly but surely getting accustomed to him, that you tend to find some sort of unrecognizable comfort and notable security in his calculated antics.

submit to him, to your fate, you do not have to do anything on your own again.

the voice in your head wasn't your own, it was blade's voice, bright, stern and utterly dominating. it's in your head but it wasn't you talking, or was it? it couldn't be.

when you come to terms with it, step by step, you are quick to notice that something changed because blade backs away all of a sudden, without somewhat announcing nor explaining himself.

you try to reach him, desperately, but you're being ignored, no answer, no message or a call being returned. proceeding, you attempt to idly greet him the very moment you see blade suddenly walk past you on a random evening, while at last, being ignored yet again.

the main impetus of his motives, what could it be? fine, to say it without beating around the bush, it's that blade will try anything in his power to make you the obsessed one.

— jing yuan

yandere! jing yuan who was using one noteworthy strategy to ploddingly drive you into his undying arms, so you weren't able to leave nor would you want to leave in the first place.

the golden eyed will make you feel like you're the most special, alluring, stunning individual he had ever laid his eyes on. most of all, will he turn everything around and act like you're in control of the relationship between you both.

hold on a second, it doesn‘t stop there.

for all intents and purposes has the capable and gifted general easily figured out that by giving you any form of large control, an illusion of indurated authority, he can covertly infiltrate that sweet head of yours to deviously influence and manipulate you how he sees fit.

following this pursue of action, you do not realize what you have gotten yourself into by the time it was too late.

for your own pair of thinking— to you it would seem like you are making important choices and solutions, yet not fathoming that in practice it was jing yuan who would put the hand picked ideas into your thoughts with subtle hints and little traces, you barely notice it.

you would end up doing whatever he wants and he smiles, kissing your lips and thanking you for taking such good care of him.

logically thinking, he does it because he wants you to become attached to him, he cannot possibly live a life without you, it's futile— you're the person he fell in love with, he couldn't imagine you walking away now.

— luocha

yandere! luocha, who, on the far side of the color of his innocent-looking, scintillating eyes, will be a crazy skilled liar who will look at you so sweetly that you cannot even process the mere possibility of something going wrong.

at the outset, he was agreeing and relating to everything you were saying or proclaiming, yet keep in mind, he puts it in a way that wasn't overbearing nor appearing as untrue— luocha knew what to say in order for it to come off as his opinion as well, as an oh so little coincidence that the two of you had so many things in common.

almost like you're made for each other, or, almost as if someone was trying to make it materialize as this.

again, you can envision him as a chameleon— following your first dates, he notices that he is wholly obsessed, it's the way you communicated, the small traits you possessed or how you'd slowly avert your eyes whenever he'd try to hold gazes.

luocha looks at you and visualizes a mirror standing in front of him.

for what reason you might wonder, let me break it to you; he needs you to be exceedingly trusting and unquestioning towards him, whatever he says, you wouldn't quiz it.

slowly, deep, decelerated steps, one by one so you wouldn't notice, luocha will gather all the information he had about you, favorite food, most dearest hobby, your habits, your views on life and the future, all written and memorized in his brain until he turns them into his own traits, characteristics of himself— because, ultimately, he was always a step ahead of you, easily lying through his gritted teeth without even realizing it himself sometimes ..

.. yet never letting go of the unfaltering control he now had acquired.

— sampo

yandere! sampo, who on the outside appeared to be rather bubbly and harmless, yet on the inside was excessively skilled in keeping you within his mind altering reach.

because love was scary, or so he thought and sought to point it out, it’s basically handing over a map of all your flaws and imperfections while putting faith in your partner to not abuse that power.

in advance of your relationship, the man had already gained your abiding trust out of the clear blue sky— lets take this into consideration, whenever you encountered a problem, dear sampo was here to solve it almost immediately, without even trying his utmost hardest.

how come he had a solution to everything you needed, he truly was wonderful, or wasn't he?

and his extraordinary inducements of special care, how he made sure that you were contented and pleased in your life, all while in reality remaining unnoticed in the cruel darkness, as the very cause of those problems you have encountered.

it's quite silly he thinks, how creative he was, again using negative rumors to pull you into a corner, or stealing work utensils and important materials you needed, silently orchestrating a various square of people who will look down on you.

until at the very last, sampo proudly positions himself just right in your life, quite heroic indeed, and placing a fake security on top of your person ..

.. so you wouldn't have to worry about anything in life anymore and fully attach yourself to him.

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bruisedboys · 5 months

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thinking about how anakin skywalker is so casually dominant and as a result, you best believe you’re going to become a victim of his manhandling! like, you’re crazy if you think he’s not gonna pick you up and move you around all the time and whenever he wants!! and ngl he’s a kind of bossy and a tiny bit possessive … but only because he cares about you so much it hurts, and if anything happened to you he’d literally die ok please let him be. but the best part for anakin is, you don’t even mind it. on the contrary, you seem to enjoy it. it’s bad for his ego but he can’t seem to stop!! especially when you get all giggly and breathless when he does it <3

like okay .. he’s always extra needy for kisses from you right? but he’s just not very good about manners. he’s about to leave for a meeting with the jedi council and he’s standing at the door, with his arms crossed like, “give me a kiss before I go, doll.” you raise your eyebrows at him, and say in this sweet, lilting tone, “what was that? didn’t hear you use the magic word, ani.” and he rolls his eyes all the way up into his head, presses you against the wall with a hand on your shoulder, thumb pushing into your throat. “I said, give me a kiss. please.” and you beam at him, somehow completely immune to his intimidating presence and snarky tone. “okay, loverboy,” you’ll say, and get on your tiptoes to press a sweet kiss to his mouth. and he melts!!!!! he probably asks for another one before he leaves, and ends up late to his very important meeting <3

also! as mentioned, he’s kind of … possessive? but not in a creepy way!! just like. super overprotective and very easy jealous and wants everyone to know you’re his. to the point where you’re out for drinks with him and obi-wan, and anakin’s got his arm locked around your shoulders and he’s sending death glares to anyone who so much as looks your way. and obi-wan is all, “y/n … blink twice if you need help,” and anakin glares at him too, but you only laugh and nuzzle further into anakin’s shoulder. and anakin gets this smug look on his face as he rubs your bicep <3

he even does it in his sleep too! like it’s the middle of the night and you need to use the bathroom, but first you have to pry anakin’s arm off of you where it’s locked over your ribs. like he’s literally holding you down in his sleep somehow. and when you’re washing your hands he appears in the doorway, shirtless and grumpy, “what’re you doing?” he’ll mumble sleepily. and you’re like, “um, I’m using the bathroom? what does it look like …” and he just grunts and goes, “well, hurry, please. the bed’s cold without you.” and stalks off to bed. when you slide back in with him, he doesn’t waste a second in getting his arm around you and dragging you back into his side <3

he knows he can be bossy and mean sometimes and he’s trying to be better, he is, but you’ve never once complained and you’re so so patient with him it makes him sick. he just cares okay!! and if that means he gets a little bit overbearing at times then so be it, you don’t mind!!

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gh0stswh0re · 2 years

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today's thots 😏: you have been begging ghost to tell you his name for days now. he does it while eating you out.

a/n: literally wrote this in 20 mins, fully aware it kinda sucks

he has you sprawled across his bed, your legs freely hanging over the edge. he is kneeling beside you, his hands holding your hips in place, the rough surface of his gloves ever so slightly scratching your soft, delicate skin, his half-masked face buried between your thighs, which are littered with hickeys and bite marks. he's hungrily lapping at your arousal, shamelessly delving his tongue inside you.

a quiet whimper of annoyance, of protest, leaves your lips when he releases the hold of his right hand on your hip, and removes his mouth from your needy, dripping cunt. he brings his fingers to his wet lips, catching the fabric of his glove between his teeth, quickly pulling it off and throwing it away, leaving it forgotten laying somewhere on the ground. his focus shifts back to you immediately - he inserts two of his thick, long fingers inside you. he begins flicking his tongue at your clit, while his fingers pump in and out of you, filling you so deliciously, so perfectly.

occasionally, he completely changes his movement – he lazily curls his fingers inside you, (a pathetic, half-assed attempt to stretch you even more), and simultaneously removes his tongue to gently suck on the swollen, sensitive nub.

you are far beyond the point of hiding your moans in embarrassment. your mind simply too foggy to process anything but the lewd, wet noises filling the room, the sinister, overbearing, pleasure.

he feels you clenching around his fingers, he hears every breath that catches in your throat and he pays full fucking attention to each and every one of your pretty moans that grow carelessly loud, animalistic, and primal. he notices your muscles tensing up, as your body shakes and your hips involuntarily jerk forward – he groans at the sudden contact.

you, though, are simply too far gone to realize any of this, too needy and eager for your sweet release, far too wrecked and broken to form any thought at all.

he removes his dominant hand from your warm cunt, which is pleading even for the smallest touch, the slightest friction feels heavenly. he quickly and messily wipes the wetness off on the side of his clothed thigh. never removing his hot, sloppy mouth in the process - he continues to swallow the sweetness of your arousal, every fucking bit of it, as if his life depends on it, as if all the oxygen was sucked out of his body, your being replacing the air that he inhales, the air that he would die without.

And then he … taps your thigh twice, as if to draw any crumb of attention left in that scrambled pretty mind of yours towards him. your chest feels heavy, and that impossibly sharp warmth in your abdomen threatens to spill all over your body, … yet you manage to shoot open your half-lidded eyes.

he's dragging his index finger across your thigh, barely touching the surface of your skin. it's a shape? a letter? the repeated movement confirms it, S – I. what kind of sadistic mind game is the cocky bastard playing now? and most importantly why is he doing it now when you are so -

he continues his merciless assault, - M

your back arches, legs trembling, - O

the control over your own body begins to slip away from you, both intoxicating and terrifying to experience. you physically feel the fiery pleasure inside you threatening to spill all over the edge - N

''Simon?-'' it's a god-given miracle that you gained enough composure to repeat the word, the name, out loud.

the last thing you feel, right before the pure euphoria spreads through your body and mind, is him smiling against you.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley headcanons #ghost #ghost headcanons #ghost smut #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #cod ghost #cod #cod mw22 #cod mw2 #smut

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kaitsawamura · 1 month

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-> somebody come get her (she's dancing like a stripper)

-> SUMMARY

You have bills to pay. That's the only thing on your mind when you go in for your shift at the strip club. The only thing on your mind until you see Daichi.

Daichi doesn't expect to find you, the girl of his dreams, at the strip club. In fact, he's 99% certain he shouldn't be here. But now he can't stop thinking of all the things he'd let you do to him.

Will your mutual attraction pay off for the both of you?

-> STATS

Pairing: Daichi Sawamura x Stripper!Reader (get that bread!)

Rating: M for Mature, MDNI

Warnings: My take on a corruption kink except Daichi's the one getting corrupted

Tags: Corruption, strangers to lovers, smut I tell you, filthy filthy smut with my husband, strip club au, oral (m receiving), p in v, creampie, a bit of choking (like a tiny bit), hair pulling, nasty nasty f*cking with my husband, sex in public (sorta, it's in a public restroom), a little dominant confident Reader (if I missed anything y'all can let me know in the DM's)

Word Count: 6.3K

Author's Note: I knew the moment I saw Mint's post . : HERE : . that I had to write something about it. They obligingly gave me the go ahead to be inspired so off I went a-writing. Obviously, this might be considered mild corruption by some but to me? This was like I went into a blackout and woke up not knowing what year it was. So, here you go, enjoy some nasty filthy smut with my love!

-> LINKS

Main Masterlist

HQ Masterlist

Playlist

Moodboard

“Rent’s due on Monday,” your roommate reminds you, concern masked with sympathy clear on her face. She’s not trying to be mean or overbearing but damn it, the stress of the situation makes you want to snark back. But you don’t.

“Do you have your half?” She nods. You nod back decisively. “I’m working tonight. Fridays are good days to work. It’s my first one without shadowing anyone. I’ll have the rest of my half in tips, don’t worry.” Her face brightens as she pours herself a glass of orange juice, sunlight streaming in the kitchen window of the tiny two-bedroom apartment you share with her.

“Thank god. The landlord’s being an ass again. We’ve been late one time. I have half a mind to give him a list of all the things wrong in this shithole instead of the check.” You roll your eyes conspiratorially but in reality, you don’t know if you’ll make your half in tips or not. Maybe your boss will give you an advance. You’ll talk to him tonight. He was surprisingly reasonable so the odds were at least in your favor.

Either way, you’ll get the money. You just hope you’ll be able to put the nervous energy thrumming through your veins to good use.

Daichi Sawamura should not have come here tonight. The guys in the office had convinced him, said there was a new pretty girl who was exactly his type. But this place was not the sort he was used to coming to. It wasn’t that this establishment was a bad one or that he had any problem with it; people had to make money how they could. Empowerment and autonomy and all that. It was more that he felt a little inadequate if he was being completely honest with himself. He wouldn’t know what to do with someone from here. He was used to good girls, the ones who had a routine and didn’t like anything too kinky. Which was also fine. But there were things he wanted to try, had a suspicion he would like that he just couldn’t ask of anyone he’d been with. He scrubbed a hand over his face, realizing the conversation he was having completely in his head was stressing him out.

“Dai, bro, just relax. She’s pretty. You better tip her good but you don’t have to talk to anyone but me and the bartender if you don’t want to. Just enjoy the show.” Kuroo smirks at his friend; it has been a long week. It’s not like he doesn’t deserve to wind down. Part of him just wishes he was doing it in the comfort of his home, with his favorite ramen from around the corner and a good movie. But who knows, maybe he’s getting complacent.

So he sits in the seat Kuroo has pulled out for him, a front-row spot directly in the middle of the runway. Right in front of the center pole. The seats are comfortable and he’s got a whiskey neat in his hands. He can feel a little of the stress release from the muscles in his traps, can feel his jaw unclench just in the slightest as the first warm sip of whiskey flows down his throat.

This is fine, he reassures himself, pushing work from his brain. Kuroo takes a sip from his own drink, a fruity one that he insists is the most delicious ever but is just a little too sweet for Daichi. The place is in a lull right now, preparing for the next act. But soon there’s a growing murmur from the back. Someone whistles, and a few others catcall. Daichi bristles just a bit, but he can’t even see anything until you hit the steps and it’s then that Kuroo elbows him.

“That’s her,” he says, raising his voice so Daichi can hear over the now thrumming bass. He feels it in his toes, in his chest, in his head. But your steps, the bounce of your tits in a skimpy bright blue bikini top, he feels in his dick. It barely covers anything, just like the matching bottoms. Cute little bows keep them on your hips and your heels are a deep black. As you get closer, your walk slow and sensuous, he can see the peep toe and your fresh French manicure poking through. He tries to adjust his navy suit pants with little success. He’s in so much fucking trouble.

You strut up the steps, the blinking LED strips embedded into the floor blinking in rhythm with the bass and the rhythm of your hips. You put a little bit of extra attitude into the sway tonight, praying to any higher power that will listen that tonight will be a good one for tips, even though it’s your first show without any supporting performers. Part of you gets it; you’re new. The owner has to make sure you know how to use those doe eyes and amazing tits properly. The other part of you, the one that knows you’re hot and knows exactly what you’re doing, wanted to smirk a little when your boss had said you wouldn’t get a Friday on your own until you’d completed two weeks of bartending and shadowing.

Your hard work has paid off though, and when you take your place at the center of the runway, you know you have your audience hooked even before dancing. There’s one guy in particular, right below you. He got arguably the best seat in the house along with his friend. You’ve seen the friend before, all confidence, slicked-back black hair, and a steamy attractive smile. Your coworkers say he’s pretty regular and always tips well. Thank god. The one next to him though, you don’t know anything about him except for the fact that the five stages of something flow across his face as you make eye contact with him. The low lighting does nothing to hide the blush flushing from the open neck of his crisp white button up to his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose. He’s got a wad of cash already set casually on the bar top in front of him.

You smile, bright and unguarded, knowing. You’ll have the rest of Monday’s rent if he’s an indication of the rest of the customers that will be coming in tonight. He turns away, uncomfortable. Aw, how sweet. So unlike some of the slimy patrons you’re used to. Something you don’t like trips low in your belly. The biggest rule was no sex with any of the customers. It was in place for a reason and a majority of the time was a good one. You remind yourself of it as the song for your first dance starts playing over the speakers.

Buss it, buss it, buss it, buss it

Is you fuckin’? Two shots, fuck it

You take a deep breath, hands on the shiny silver pole, and wrap one leg around it. The metal is cold to the touch but something else has goosebumps crawling up your bare skin. When you spin, turning in the new guy’s direction, your suspicions are confirmed that the feeling is not the rest of the eyes on you but his. And his are suddenly, somehow, the only eyes you want to perform for. So you do.

Daichi can feel Kuroo snap to attention next to him; he can’t blame him. You’re stunning and you know it. You look like maybe you shouldn’t know how to do this so well, but none of that matters as all coherent thoughts leave Daichi’s head when you spin and drop, rolling your hips so your ass faces him. You turn and look at him as you rise slowly, a deliciously naughty smile still all over that pretty little mouth. He rushes to take a sip of his drink, drums his fingers on the bartop, runs them through his hair, anything to occupy his hands. Because he knows the only place they really should be is all over you. Oh, the things he would let you do to him. He’d do anything for you. He takes another gulp of whiskey, disappointed when he drains the heavy glass.

Oh, shit. Oh, shit. He knew you were making eye contact with him but when you get on all fours and crawl to him like some lethal jungle cat, the end of the song nearing, he knows he’s in for it. And he’s okay with that. Any doubts he had, about being here at least, have vanished completely. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him but he leans forward to meet you where you are at the edge of the stage. The crowd is roaring around him, the cheers only growing louder at the chemistry shooting like electricity through the air between the two of you. They’re jealous cheers he thinks, although he’s sure as hell not looking away long enough to check anyone’s expressions to confirm.

“Got anything good for me, pretty boy?” Your voice is pitched low as you blink big eyes at him, a smirk playing on your lips. Because, goddammit, he is pretty. Prettier than any other patrons you’d ever catered to. You would not mind if he came to be one of your regulars, regardless of any funds that might be exchanged. You would not mind if he came regularly—in your cunt, on your ass, on your tongue… A girl could take her pick with a man like him. Thick dark hair, glittering brown eyes, full lips. A barrel chest and wide shoulders to boot. No sex with the customers, no sex with the customers, no sex with the customers…

You watch, heat pooling low in your belly, as he unbinds the cash you had noticed earlier. You can’t quite figure him out. Because he’s making eye contact with you as he spreads the folded bills, licks his thumb, and pulls out two crisp Benjamins but there is a nervous tremor in his large hands as he passes the bills to you. Your eyes widen, the act dropping momentarily before you catch yourself and push out your bottom lip in a pout.

“Hm, a girl should get a little more than that for such a good performance, don’t you think?” You are completely used to this, the schpeel. You’ve done it thousands of times at the last place you worked and hundreds more at this club. It’s part of the persona within these walls. Mystery man is apparently not used to acting this way. You can see the war within him as you take the bills and he leans back, trying to be casual but every line of him is taught like a rubber band about to break.

“You here all night?” Don’t give anyone your schedule. If they like you enough, they’ll figure it out on their own by being a regular paying customer. You nod, liking this new game. Toeing around something you would normally consider dangerous, if only for all the variables far out of your control. But that makes it all the more fun, especially when he clicks his tongue behind his teeth and replies “Good, then so am I. I have more where that came from. Do you?”

Kuroo is watching the interaction with a gaping mouth. Daichi doesn’t have a clue where this new side of him is coming from. Except. Except he does. And it feels damn good. Despite being sure it is glaringly obvious that he is leaping so far out of his comfort zone, you seem to be very receptive. He shouldn’t be entertaining the idea of staying all night. He could use some sleep. But he could also use that mouth around his cock. You probably have rules, rules that should be followed, for your safety. Daichi knows he’s safe, but you don’t. He most definitely should not ask for your number or give you his or ask what time you’re off. You shouldn’t answer him.

But you do, nodding earnestly when he asks if you’ll be here all night. He has no choice. There’s something about you that he can’t shake off. The extra cash is of no consequence to him, and maybe, just maybe… No, he won’t let that thought go further. He won’t imagine how you’d look on your knees, or bouncing on his cock. He won’t imagine you writhing beneath him or securing him to his headboard with those cuffs he’d bought but never gotten to use. He won’t imagine you breathily calling him pretty boy again even though, fuck, he wishes you would so, so bad.

“What’s your name,” you ask before you can stop yourself, before you rise to your feet. The rules here are good ones, meant to keep both the patrons and performers safe. You’d worked at other establishments before that didn’t care so much about safety so much as they cared about money. Your radar has never been off in the past and maybe that shouldn’t be enough for you but everything about Mystery Man makes you want to break every rule ever set before you. There’s something about him that makes you want to risk it all. You want to hear him whimper and you’d place bets that you could get him to do it in record time. Even now, his breathing is shallow and he seems unable to answer you. His friend leans over, elbowing him into action.

“His name’s Daichi. And mine’s Kuroo. Ya know, in case you wanted to know.” His smile is genuine, not creepy at all. You return the grin as you stand before turning back to Daichi. He straightens a little, snapped back to reality by his friend.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say to Kuroo. He is attractive, just not who you have your eyes set on. But it’s good information to pass along to your coworkers. Judging by his tailored suit that fits just as good as Daichi’s, you’d wager his job pays like his friend’s. The music swells again, the DJ cueing to your next song. “Kuroo, make sure your friend doesn’t go anywhere. Tonight’s for him.” Kuroo scoffs in friendly disbelief at Daichi’s luck.

“I’m hauling you to the club more often,” he says to Daichi, who flashes a quick small smile. Oh god, that smile could bring anyone you know to their knees. It could certainly do it to you. That smile alone could get you to do anything Daichi would ask. You point at Kuroo as you take your place at the center pole again.

“I’m holding you to that, Kuroo.” You brace your hands one over the other on the pole, and shake your ass for all it’s worth.

Body crazy, curvy, wavy, big titties, little waist.

Daichi’s going to have a stroke, he just knows it. He can feel the veins in his forehead and neck bulging. The blood has flowed elsewhere too. His cock is so hard it feels painful. There are several different ways he could get relief, most of which he should not be considering seeking in a public area. But it’s unbearable and there’s no way he’s going to let himself come in front of all these other people. He waits for the end of your current number and then he’s standing so fast his chair screeches out behind him; a couple of people look his way but for the most part, you’ve got everyone’s attention. Kuroo glances sideways at his friend; he doesn’t say anything, just smirks as Daichi tosses another hundred on the bar top, telling Kuroo to give it to you before rushing to the bathroom.

He makes his way down the hall and notices there are several doors marked RESTROOM in bold capital letters. Thank god there are single-person stalls. He stumbles into one, shutting the door and locking it with shaking hands. The music is still audible, even here; it seems to have dropped to a low steady hum. Intermission. Perfect. Daichi turns to the sink and splashes cold water on his face, one last attempt to snap himself out of this fucking trance. Because that’s what this has to be. He’s getting all hot and bothered over someone who he doesn’t even know. And god, he wants to think that you like him but he knows he’s tipping good and he’s not one of those creeps that can’t recognize it’s your fucking job.

The image in the mirror is one that almost shocks him; his eyes are glazed, and his hair’s a mess. Just once, he just needs to come once and then he can stay here until the end of the night like he said he would. He’ll tip you like a good customer would. Then he’ll leave and he’ll never come back. Because this? This is Daichi out of control and he’s not sure that’s a good thing. Maybe he should go back to making love to nice girls in his king-sized bed. Yes, that’s what he’ll do. He’ll leave here and he won’t come back and he’ll never think of you again.

Daichi unbuckles his belt, the metal of the buckle clanking as he yanks his zipper down. He lets out a pained breath, his cock straining against his underwear. He slips his hand into the elastic band, taking it into his hand and bringing it out into the air. He backs up to the wall, the cool air offering little comfort for the engorged head, and closes his fist around himself. A breath comes fast and heavy out of his mouth as he starts jacking himself off slowly, trying to make the moment last.

You watch as Daichi stands abruptly, so quickly and sharply that he almost topples his chair over. You watch as he tosses another bill on the bar top, leaning in to say something to Kuroo. You watch as he throws one last glance your way before beelining to the bathrooms. Idiot. Absolute idiot is what you are because you’re making your way off the runway, ignoring the audience as a low boo goes through the crowd. Your boss catches your eye from the end of the bar and waves you over.

“What the hell is going on?” It’s not said unkindly but more with an air of annoyance. This is your first Friday night on your own and you might be blowing it. But you don’t care. You put on a fake wince and point at your head, trying to look as contrite and imploring as possible.

“I’m so sorry, I know it’s my first Friday and I’m so grateful. But I’ve really gotta pee and I’ve got this horrible headache starting. Can I take ten? Just ten minutes, enough time for an ibuprofen to set in while I go to the bathroom, and then I’ll be back out. Please.” You put those big eyes back to use, blinking slow and tilting your head slightly like you’re trying to relieve the pain of your fake headache. Your boss squints his eyes but doesn’t protest as he pulls a bottle of Advil from behind the bar. He hands you a couple with a glass of water.

“Ten minutes. Go to the bathroom. Take a breather. Then get your ass back out there. I’ve seen the business you’re encouraging after two sets. You’ll be back up there as one of my main performers if you keep up the good work.” You smile as you throw the pills back with the water and hurry in the direction of the restroom, pulling on one of the extra robes from the bar. Now to find Daichi.

A couple is making out in the hallway; you brush past them and knock quietly on the first door. A voice answers quickly that the stall is occupied but it’s not Daichi’s voice. You knock on two more doors before getting to the last one. You suppose he could have gone into the multi-stall restroom but you’d seen the look on his face when he’d stood and you’d bet all the cash he’d given you so far that he wasn’t coming back here to take a piss. You rap your knuckles on the last single-person stall. You’re rewarded with his voice coming from the other side.

“There’s someone-ha-there’s someone in here!” He can barely get the words out; you know what’s going on in that stall and you want to help. You rub your thighs together, realizing you’re already getting wet.

“Daichi, it’s me.” This is stupid. Maybe he doesn’t even like you that much. Maybe you’re just some stripper at a strip club. There’s a heavy silence now, almost solid enough that you could cut it with a knife. Another pause and you’re getting ready to leave, cursing your confidence for all that it’s getting you, but then you hear the click of the door unlocking. He opens it but only just so. Still, it’s an invitation and one you are eager to accept. You open the door just wide enough to slip through to shield yourself from any potential wandering eyes in the hall. The scene inside the stall nearly wrecks you.

Daichi has backed up against the wall, as far away from you as humanly possible. It’s so obvious that he’s been jacking himself off. His hair is messy, his eyes wild like he was already on the brink. He’s desperately trying to cover his cock with his hands and even though they’re large, they can’t cover it completely. You meet his gaze, which he tries to avoid, his eyes fluttering left then right with shame, before finally settling on you. Something trips across your skin.

“Babe, let me help you with that,” you whisper as you direct your line of sight to his cock. It twitches as you move closer, slowly, as if you’re approaching a cornered animal. Daichi groans a little when you reach him, one hand steadying on his shoulder and the other reaching up to touch his face.

“This is—this is not what it looks like, I swear. I promise I’m not some creep, I just—” You put a single finger softly to his lips, making sure he’s got his eyes on you. They widen just a bit. In the brighter light of the bathroom, you can see how rich the color of his irises are, golden brown like sunlight streaming through an autumn wood, or espresso, or something corny like that. Fuck the rules.

“Daichi, can I kiss you?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. His mouth drops open but his eyes rove from yours down to your lips, then your covered chest, and back up. Finally, he nods so you guide his face down to yours and kiss him. His lips are soft and warm and pliable. He makes a little sound in the back of his throat, so unlike the image he’d put out walking in this place with his fine, tailored suit and stack of cash. Your hand slips from his shoulder and moves down the ridge of his pectoral, then lower still to the hard planes of his stomach. You trail your fingers over the now wrinkled fabric, close to his undone belt and open pants. His cock jumps against your abdomen past his hands and he gasps. “Is this okay?” You ask the question, certain that Daichi just needs the chance to give in. He nods again so you smooth your hand lower until it wraps around his cock.

Daichi’s head thunks against the wall of the bathroom as another sharp breath explodes from his open mouth. “Oh, fuck,” he growls quietly. You move your hand experimentally, softly, swiping your thumb across the head, gathering the bit of precome at the tip and smearing it about. You can’t decide what you want to look at more: the red bleeding over Daichi’s skin from the neck up, his heaving chest, or how his cock looks in your hands. He’s so… responsive. Each turn of your wrist has him shuddering beneath you. More. You need more. You want to see him beg. And part of you also realizes that he needs this too. You drop to your knees and his eyes snap back open as he watches you. “What’re you doing?”

“Only what you want me to do, Daichi. Unless you don’t want me to?” You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s shaking his head. He wraps his hand around yours, enveloping it, and moves it once, twice, over himself. A thought occurs to you, one you’re denying even as you ask him “Daichi, have you ever come down anyone’s throat?” The answer is obvious but you still feel incredulous as he tells you no. The veins in his hands are bulging and he’s still, like the calm before the storm. You lean in, maintaining eye contact, as you blow a breath over his cock. “Do you want to?”

It’s like you flipped a switch. Daichi, slowly now so you have time to pull away if you want to, curls his fingers in your hair, stroking them along your scalp. “Yes, please.” He whispers it, certain this is a dream. This has to be a fucking dream. He’s had a blow job before but never has he ever asked to come in someone’s mouth. He’s a clean guy but he’s not clueless; he just assumed most people thought it was gross and never had a problem with the fact that no one wanted to do that. At least not anyone he had been with. But, oh, he’d thought about it, lots of times. Most of those times in one night.

His pupils are blown wide as you lick your lips and take just the tip, swirling your tongue over the head. His skin is smooth, molten hot. The way your eyes never leave his is something else entirely and when you hollow out your cheeks and relax your throat to take all of him, he thinks he might die. He’s trying to maintain some semblance of control but it is already dwindling to nothing. There’s a coil building in his abdomen. Not yet he thinks viciously. Not yet. You take a few more pulls before releasing him with a pop. Frantic, he feels frantic. Maybe you decided you didn’t want to do this and he’d have to be okay with that, he couldn’t blame you but god damn—

“Daichi, eyes on me.” The man’s Adam’s apple bobs as he locks in on you again. “Let go, babe. Show me how you want it. Pull my hair. Set the pace. And when you’re gonna come, you come down my throat. Nowhere else, you got it? I’ve got five more minutes. Think we can get you there, pretty boy?” He nearly blacks out when you say those words he needed to hear again. Oh, yes, yes he’s sure you can. His eyes search yours once more before fisting his hand in your hair, tightening experimentally. You smile around his cock, deep-throating him once more, but waiting expectantly. He’s not going to come back from this. You’ve ruined anyone else for him. And he’s accepted his fate.

The moment he lets go, the moment he breaks down whatever wall is holding him in place, you can sense it. You place your hands on his thighs as he pulls you nearly all the way off before shoving you back down. Your eyes water just a bit but you feel the slick gather between your thighs. Yes, the girl inside of you that wants to see him to the end hisses. He sets the pace, a strong and quick one, but somehow still gentle. If you said you needed to stop now, you somehow know he’d do so immediately. He twists a little more, angling your head just how he wants it. You set your teeth down ever so lightly just to see….

Daichi whimpers and gasps, the sound nearly a sob on his lips. You swirl your tongue again and suck. “Ha—shit. Just. Just like that,” he grits out as he grips tighter. It hurts a little, your hair and your knees, but the pain swirls with the pleasure in a delicious slide of skin against skin. Your nails dig into his thighs again before he takes one of your hands and closes it around the base of his cock. You grip, working your wrist along with your mouth. He bucks against you, a jerky movement. “I’m close, fuckfuckfuck I’m close. I’m gonna come.” His voice lies somewhere between a bark and a whine. He can’t decide if he wants you closer, or farther, to stop or keep going. His brain is short-circuiting. He tries to pull back just a little bit, but you won’t let him in the best way possible.

You quirk your wrist and tilt your head in just a certain way… Daichi cries out, long and broken, as he curls in over you, his orgasm washing over him in waves so intense his vision goes black. His entire body shudders with his release, his form towering over you as he spurts ropes of come all the way down your throat. You milk him for all he’s worth. Not a single drop is getting away from you, no way in hell. Next time, you want him to come in your pussy. Next time? God, you want there to be a next time. He’s still leaning over you when his breathing slows and steadies; his hands are bracing themselves on your back rubbing soothing circles there with his thumbs. He helps you to your legs and steadies you for a moment.

The silence stretches on as you look at each other, both a little shocked at what just conspired. Daichi slowly puts himself back into his pants and you help him buckle his belt. You’re both on the verge of saying something either extremely brave or extremely stupid with each moment that passes. You’re about to make the first move again when he reaches up and takes your jaw in his hand, running a thumb along the corner of your mouth to gently push the last of his spend into your mouth. You lean into the touch and welcome his finger, sucking it clean just like his dick. He thinks he might be in love with you.

A breathless giggle comes out of you as you back away just a fraction, trying to give yourself space from the startling sensation fluttering in your stomach like butterflies. Your boss is gonna kick your ass if you don’t get back out on the floor. “I would invite you to my place to continue this after I’m off but it’s a little crowded and the walls are thin,” you say, hoping against hope that he wants more just as much as you do. There’s no room for doubt when he leans in and kisses you, deep and slow, tasting himself in your mouth.

“That’s no problem, princess. If you’re still feeling this when you’re off, I’ve got a penthouse all to myself.” Oh, there it is—the swagger you expected him to have. Your eyes glitter as you smooth out your hair, knowing it still looks good enough to perform. If anything, the smell of sex and the appearance of your swollen lips will get you better money, as long as your boss doesn’t catch on. You don’t think he will. “I’ll find you at the end of the night.” You nod, suddenly the bashful one.

Somehow, everything that just transpired did so all in your ten-minute break. In fact, you have one minute to spare as you strut back to the runway, giving your boss a wink and blowing a kiss to the stupefied audience.

“Harder, Daichi, harder.” You can barely get the words out as he thrusts inside of your aching cunt. Your face is pushed into the pillows on Daichi’s king-sized bed, your ass in the air. The sound of skin slapping on skin in the quiet of his room is pornographic but you can’t waste any thoughts on being even remotely embarrassed. Tears stream down your face as he continually hits that spot inside of you that you’ve only been able to hit with a dildo and even then it never came close to this. Daichi’s a machine, the way he keeps going. After you sucked him off and he came so quickly earlier in the night, he was determined to make this one last longer. One of his hands is gripping tightly into the plush of where your hip meets your ass cheek, the other is splayed over your back, even now caressing the skin, alighting it with goosebumps. “Oh, fuuuuuck,” you whine as that same hand snakes around to your neck to pull you up.

His fingers and palm ghost over the skin as he thrusts up into you and it’s all you can do to hold to his thighs for dear life, your nails digging in so hard you’ll know they’ll leave a mark. “Are you close, princess?” He whispers it labored into your ear, his breath hot, his mouth even hotter as he leans in to nip at your pulse point from behind. You nod frantically, almost unable to answer. “Can I come inside, baby? Will you let me? Will you let me be a good boy for you?” His hand moves from your throat to your clit, stroking one slow circle over the oversensitive nub. Thank god for birth control.

“Yes, Daichi, yes, come in my pussy. Oh, god, yes be a good boy for me.” You squeal as he thrusts hard, once, twice, swiping his fingers over your clit again in a more concentrated pattern and you feel your first orgasm of the night sweep over you as Daichi finds his own release with a mangled, animalistic groan. You think he’s done, especially when he pulls out leaving you feeling way too empty. But you’re wrong, so, so wrong. He proceeds to flip you over and push back in, a ring of white forming around where he’s begun thrusting inside of you again.

“I thought about this all fucking night.” He surges up over you, grabbing your wrists and pulling them above you. “I thought about that pretty little cunt around my cock. I thought about how pretty you’d look laying in my bed.” One thrust, slow and teasing. You roll your hips up to meet him, even though your thighs are weak and shaking. “I’ve never–I’ve never fucked anyone like this before, it’s,” he leans in to suck on your pulse again, runs his tongue over the salty skin there, “magical.” You whimper beneath him when you feel the familiar coil tightening once more in your belly.

“Do you think I can make you come again, Daichi? Can you come for me one more time?” He groans, sealing his lips over yours as he releases your hands so that can pull him closer into you. You scrape your nails from the nape of his neck into his hair, and grip, breathless, as his rhythm becomes choppy again. God, you don’t know how he’s still going. The two of you are so frenzied, the blood in your veins hotter than a blue flame. “Look at me when you come, baby, look at me,” you whisper, bringing your hands to his cheeks. His eyes are glazed, his face strained but still beautiful. “I’m going to touch myself now, okay?” His mouth pops open again as he nods, before watching as you wrap one arm around his shoulder and bring your other hand to your clit. You swipe around his cock, collecting some of the mess you’ve both made there. You know how to pleasure yourself and with Daichi’s expert stroke, it doesn’t take long before it snaps over you, the walls of your pussy squeezing around him forcing spend from him one more time. It’s not as explosive as the first time but still enough that you can feel the wet leaking out onto his sheets. “So good for me, Daichi, look how good you are for me,” you chant as you wring the last of the pleasure from each other.

When it’s over, he stills, pulling out of you and collapsing onto the bed beside you. There’s a sheen of sweat covering you both. The cool early morning air coming in Daichi’s open window creates the perfect juxtaposition of sensations. He reaches over to trace patterns into your palm. “Can I hold you?” The question is so sweet, it makes you huff out a laugh. The man just blew your back out and he asks if he can hold you. But you are more than willing to oblige him so you roll into his open arm and lay your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. You wait a moment before looking up at him, relishing the feeling of his fingers now tracing patterns into your arm and shoulder.

“Didn’t you mention something about handcuffs earlier?” He looks down at you jerkily, a sheepish grin on his face. You smile mischievously. You’re going to ruin him. He’s going to let you. And he’s going to love it.

“Let me make you breakfast first, yeah?” You nod and breathe in the smell of him, all sex and musk and expensive cologne. Neither one of you knows where this is going to go but right now, it doesn’t matter. You yawn and snuggle closer.

“Just so you know,” you intone sleepily, “I like French toast.” He laughs softly, his own body relaxing into a lazy slumber.

“Hm, French toast? I pinned you as a pancake kinda girl. Good thing I also like French toast and always keep the supplies in to make it.” His breathing is slow and shallow, matching the rhythm of yours. The sun peeks over the cityscape around you as the two of you go under, cradled in each other’s arms.

This work and its digital elements (photo credit to photographer) are © Kait of @kaitsawamura 2024. Please do not alter or copy this work. Please do not repost this work to other platforms without my express permission.

#daichi sawamura x reader #sawamura daichi x reader #daichi sawamura x you #sawamura daichi x you #daichi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #hq x reader #fic: somebody come get her #kait writes #daichi ♥︎

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 14 days

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ways TANGERINE stays sentimental, while protecting his love’s identity:

credits to @everythingisspokenfortbh for the idea, and expanding on it with me. post is here <3

gn!reader, <500 words

tangerine is sometimes too protective, like the near overbearing kind. it's not because he's controlling or tyrannical or domineering —though it may feel like that— instead his obsessive need to keep you safe, came from a far more loving place. vulnerable, even.

he knew his line of work was not safe. and not only does he put himself in great depths of danger, but he also puts those he loves in that same chasm of the unknown. that includes you.

when it came to picking wedding rings, he wanted to steer far from the traditional bands that each of you would have upon your left hand, instead opting for something more secret.

so, on your special day at the altar, rather than exchanging rings, you gave necklaces - each complimenting the other, not completing another: charms with the sun and the moon. tangerine had gold to match the rest of his jewellery, and you had silver. the sun worked best with gold like the moon did with silver. but tangerine is not a sun person. so to get around that issue, you brought up a suggestion, saying that you should wear each other's charm.

since your special day, each of you have been wearing your promises around your necks, the pendant of your lover there as a reminder. not for others, but for you. the meaning of the necklace was for the two of you only. no one else knew.

and during those weeks when he leaves for work, you would swap necklaces - giving the other a piece to remember. tangerine would wear yours like a lucky charm, the pendant offering him safety, while his would offer you comfort.

tangerine is sentimental, and you'd have a hard time trying to convince someone that he is. he keeps his love hidden and protected, the feeling only to be expressed with those he values most. and to keep with the theme of your protection, he finds ways to show his love without putting you in harm's way.

when it came to honouring special dates between you, he liked to remember them with tattoos. he'd get small and meaningful drawings inked into his body to secretly showcase his love for you.

over the years, he accumulated an array of tiny momentos declaring his love - ranging from an outline of the country you met to a sketch of your favourite planet all the way to the moon phase on the night of your wedding. to an unknown eye, these tattoos would look like little random doodles. but not to tangerine, and not to you. these inked images are snippets of proof that show the love and sentiment of your heartless, cold assassin of a lover.

everything he does, he does it for you.

ALSO BTW my cat has a similar moon charm that we were talking about AHH!?

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine fluff #tangerine bullet train

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comradekatara · 2 months

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notes on “the runaway”

the more i see people discuss how strangely sokka’s character is portrayed in “the runaway” the more i cannot help but feel that all my ad hoc rationalizations and justifications as to why he would contradict himself so greatly might actually be meaningless. why would he allow the gaang to endanger themselves for foolish reasons when he is the overly paranoid voice of caution in literally every other episode? why would he be so easily swayed by toph’s manipulative promise of buying him a fancy atlas when he’s literally holding her wanted poster? and most crucially, why would he say that he sees katara as his mother when no other episode in the show indicates that this is remotely the case?

this episode is great for katara and toph, whose hangups are compellingly explored here. i won’t get into the common misconceptions about katara being “motherly” or why they’re even at loggerheads to begin with, as i’ve discussed this at length in the past, but it’s actually undeniable that the assumption that katara is the de facto “mom friend” stems primarily from this episode, where toph all but outright accuses her of fancying herself their collective mother. however, katara becoming “the mother” of the group is very much a post-toph shift in her character, and you see her femininity being accentuated in contrast with toph’s deliberate lack of femininity also being linked to this sort of maternal role that she occasionally adopts, especially around toph. but i don’t actually think the issue is one of katara being a smothering, maternal figure towards toph, but rather a miscommunication regarding power, gender, class, and community vs independence. when katara and toph fight, it is for far more complex and nuanced reasons than the notion that katara is simply too overbearing. if anything, it’s the way in which she is overbearing that irks toph, just as toph’s rudeness is not the central issue, but rather that toph’s values (those of total independence and freedom) are misinterpreted as malice by katara (who values community and collaboration), and vice versa.

something very crucial to understand about this episode is that katara is not actually mad that toph endangered their group by pulling fun scams. katara has endangered their group countless times in the past to satisfy her own impulsive desires (and yes, she wants justice, but toph similarly rationalizes her scams through the lens of achieving moral vindication). katara would be all over toph’s scammery, would come up with scams of her own, would be having more fun than anyone—had she been included from the start. which is exactly the point. it is her exclusion that foments her critique, not the subject of their act itself (and the reason that you could not replace katara with sokka in this scenario is simply because toph would never exclude sokka in the first place). but katara would never admit that she is hurt by toph’s exclusion aloud, because katara is an extremely proud person. and a prideful, wounded fourteen year old is not going to thoughtfully use “i statements” as if in a group therapy session with the equally prideful twelve year old who deliberately excluded her; no, she is going to lash out. (lest we forget that in their first real episode establishing their group dynamic, katara literally mocks toph’s blindness. hardly an okay thing to do, in my opinion!) their conflict stems from their differences, but also from their similarities. they are both proud, angry, powerful, stubborn, and must assert their dominance at all times. it’s clear they both want to be friends with each other, and at times they are, but it is really only in this episode where they are able to cross a threshold that allows them to be truly honest about more meaningful insecurities than simply their looks (although i do of course find their exchange in “tales” beautiful as well). and you know who is instrumental (albeit reluctant to interfere) in facilitating that growth? sokka.

i’ve gone more in depth in the past analyzing why sokka’s speech in this episode regarding his mother and katara isn’t exactly as it sounds. i personally interpret his admission, that katara has always been there for him and that her face is all he sees when he tries to picture his mother, as an illustration of his codependent attachment to her, as she is the very locus of his identity. this interpretation is compounded by the fact that when kya’s face is finally revealed later in the season, she does bear an uncanny resemblance to sokka, which to me signifies the way in which sokka sublimates his own face for katara’s—which is also deeply unhealthy, but in a different way than an older brother parentifying his younger sister would be.

the fact is that there is simply no indication throughout the entire show (including this episode) that sokka views or treats katara as a parent. there are of course moments wherein she supports him emotionally or materially, but most of the time she is in fact teasing, tormenting, undermining, yelling at, or otherwise making life harder for him, at which point he is far more likely to act as her guardian figure and admonish her while simultaneously helping her get out of whatever mess she’s caused. and considering that sokka’s defining moment is when hakoda stakes his identity to protecting his (ontologically special) sister (which, as we know, as the bearer of kya’s face, in fact means dying for her), this dynamic makes far more sense than the other way around. i know that people commonly portray katara as the voice of reason who cleans up sokka’s messes, but besides a couple examples, it’s consistently the other way around. yes, it’s very easy to assume that sokka’s speech indicates that he sees katara as his replacement mother, but we cannot take this speech at face value if we are also to take the rest of the text into account, which we must.

but then there’s also the other glaring question that must be taken into account: why would sokka even allow all this? considering the first thing toph bartered was the sword he has painstakingly crafted just an episode prior, why didn’t sokka just pull the plug then and there? it really doesn’t make sense that sokka wouldn’t take katara’s side just for practical, logistical reasons. even if she doesn’t really care about the own point she’s making (as demonstrated by the fact that the scam she devises literally lands her in jail), sokka would see the logic in it. but... he does. he is the one to first discover the wanted poster, and he immediately points out to toph that their scams are drawing undue attention to her, and that they should put an end to it now that's it's putting them at risk. and yet, toph successfully bribes him, and so he continues to participate. why? what about the prospect of having money is so appealing to sokka that he’s willing to risk his precious rationality and caution for the potential of acquiring more of it? well, it’s actually quite simple.

toph is scamming for the thrill of the game. she loves proving the kind of men who undermined and demeaned her all her life wrong. she loves humiliating the people of the world who had once humiliated her. she’s not someone who values earthly possessions or really even understands that money is a finite resource. to her, these scams are a matter of ego. aang is also scamming for the thrill of the game. he loves a prank, a bit of mischief, getting into some tomfoolery. he loves spending time pulling hijinks with his friends. it’s funny, it’s fun, and it’s lucrative on top of that. but it’s clear that he views it as a game. now, sokka similarly enjoys pulling these scams. he adores toph and clearly finds it nearly as satisfying as she does to watch her destroy the egos of men thrice her size. but even more potent than his adoration for toph, is his appreciation for money.

when katara put them all in danger countless times in the past, it may have been to enact righteous justice, but it was never materially beneficial to sokka. sokka is a very practical person, and growing up in a state of colonial abjection taking on the role of provider for a couple dozen people mostly comprised of elderly women and small children makes you appreciate the value of goods and resources in a way that an aristocrat and a monk do not. you may be asking, "are you really arguing that sokka would undermine his own values and endanger himself and his friends so readily for the prospect of financial security?" to which i would argue that you underestimate how truly cynical sokka is. of course he loves money and food he doesn’t have to catch or forage – see: his appreciation for the immediate luxury of ba sing se that everyone else finds so stifling. he is not spiritual; he is attached to earthly possessions and the immediate physical needs of those around him. so of course he loves a material object. in his own words: “i do believe in the power of stuff.” because even when sokka is supposedly being uncharacteristically foolish or naive, he is in fact nonetheless promoting the cynic’s agenda every step of the way.

“the runaway” is a good episode, perhaps even a great one. however, it has also lent to some of the fundamental misinterpretations i see of katara, sokka, and toph that are constantly thrown around (including the occasional citing of this episode to justify that aang apparently “sees katara as his mother”). so in some ways, i do resent this episode for begetting those strange and incorrect takes, even if i think that in a vacuum, it is well-executed. it is an episode that complicates our characters, adds nuances and shades of grey to their pre-established characterizations, but does not actually rewrite them. sure, if this was the only episode of the show i had ever seen, i too might assume that katara was the maternal and responsible figure of the group, toph was a careless and rude little bitch, and aang and sokka were idiots who relied solely on katara’s infinite well of long-suffering guidance. but even within this episode, that is clearly not established to be the case, and if that notion is not sufficiently undermined by the episode’s conclusion, it is quite clearly by the episodes bracketing it, which provide crucial context through which to inform our understandings of the choices made in this episode, and why they are indeed interesting, but nonetheless do not reflect the characterizations established in the series as a whole.

#id in alt text #analysis #katara #toph #sokka #aang #katara&toph #katara&sokka #this episode is sooo #well. i like it #but the things it has done to how this fandom reads the gaang dynamic #is just. goddawful #so here are my 2 cents on why it IS in fact in character #but simply. no one is reading is correctly #feel free to disagree tho you can just straight up think its a bad episode thats okay too #i love katara and toph fighting in the mud sm tho #how could you ever hate that. i ask of you. how

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medicinal-doll · 9 months

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Hurt.

Daddy!Henry x little!reader

Summary: You only wanted to make a simple home cooked meal for your husband but after a recent accident his cautious nature decides to make itself known.

Warnings: Fluff, love bombing, babying, kisses,petnames,injury,hint at ddlg themes,slight Dom/sub dynamic

A/N I hope this helps a bit anon

*Please don't repost without permission If you use my writing as inspiration please ask first and credit me*

..............

You try to ignore your husband's looming eyes on your body. ever since he got home from work...no.. ever since the accident he's been acting as if you're made of glass.

"Let me get that for you sweetie" A strong dominant hand encircles your waist keeping you firm as Henry reaches over your head. grabbing the pasta box from the high shelf.

And now you're frowning in the corner. not only watching him start to cook the meal you planned, but every now and then he gives you a sympathetic smile.

You stand there arms crossed with a pout trying to work up the courage to say something. to tell him that you're far from helpless, and that you can take care of yourself even though you're healing.

But you know that argument would just fall on deaf ears. Henry babied you before you hurt your back. but now, apparently you can't even manage to make dinner without his assistance and under his watchful eye.

You wait until his attention is turned to stirring the basil ridden spaghetti sauce before you sneak out of the luxurious kitchen and make your way to the wine cellar. You scan the dusty shelves looking for the perfect taste to take your mind off of your overbearing husband and the dull ache of your spine when you finally see it.

The 1942 bottle of sauvignon blanc. only it's netted to an old wooden crate. fueled by determination and denial of your altered state you instantly crouch down. gripping the handles of the crate and start applying force as your husband's warnings ring a faint lullaby in the back of your mind.

You pull your hardest with all your might before a sharp seething hot pain shoots through you. causing an involuntary drop of the heavy box with a thud and a loud cry of pain.

"Shit!"

You drop to the floor as you caress your back in anguish.

And not a moment later do you hear heavy rushed footsteps come flying down the cellar stairs. finding yourself scooped up within an instant cradled in a protective embrace. You look up to meet Henry's panicked eyes as his irises wander your form looking for any sign of further injury.

"Are you alright honey?.." he looks at you with a sincere gaze as he brushes away your hair to get a good read on your expression.

But as embarrassment starts to settle in. you just give one simple nod as you feel your tears well up. clinging to his chest for comfort, sniffling lightly in shame.

Henry sighs, his concerned expression slightly settling. relieved that you're okay but then his brows furrow as he takes on a more stern look. taking a hold of your chin as he makes you face him hesitantly.

"Look at me babygirl..." He says in that gentle tone he knows you're weak for. shyly you look up at him your face still guilt ridden as ever.

"you're hurt honey" he says gently not wanting to lecture you too harshly.

"So now... You need to be a good girl and let your daddy take care of you, Okay?"

He feels his heart flutter as he watches your little eyes cling on to his every word.

"Papa knows how big and strong you are...and I love that. but now you need to stop being so stubborn and let me take care of you"

"that's what I'm here for angel" he nuzzles your face and you can't help the giggle that slips.

You pout at your husband feeling self conscious of your silly behavior and needless display of false strength. You bury your head into his soothing chest as you feel him carefully lift your feeble form from the ground.

.........

Settling onto the soft bed he seats you on his lap. gently rocking you back and forth. making sure to avoid shifting your injury as he places sweet kisses on your forehead and against your temple.

You meld so easily into his warm and comforting presence. relishing in the delicious concoction of his natural pheromones and faint cologne.

"I love you so much sweetie"

His big hands roam your body lovingly. caressing you from your soft thighs to your hips.then finally nestling around your ribcage delicately pulling you closer to his chest.

"Stay here and relax for me honey" he leans down giving you a deep passionate kiss to the lips. you whimper lightly savouring the softness and the light tickle of his facial hair.

"I promise i'll wake you when dinner's finished" he says in a low accent cuddling you close to him.You nod absentmindedly, not having it in you to prove your strength anymore. only wanting to be good for him now.

Grabbing at his collar for one last tender kiss. He then hushes you under the sheets. whispering his love and adoration for you. before leaving you to rest that pretty little head of yours.

#x little!reader #henry cavill x reader #daddy!henry #henry cavill x female reader #daddy!henry cavill x little!reader #henry cavill x little!reader #henry cavill fluff

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jeankirstein4ever · 1 month

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Love Songs - Modern!Eren J.

❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚

A/N: Match up for @ermbabyel! You guys have been such supportive angels, sorry there was such a long break but the vacation was lovely!

❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚

Your first impression isn't ideal - it's the dead of night in a CVS, exhausted and bored with the current color of your hair only to be met with the loudest group of boys in the universe. Eren, Connie, and Jean had had a long night of drinking and playing at some dive bar, barking laughing, and yelling throughout the store.

" fifty bucks if you dye your hair, 'ren," Connie calls out some stupid bet, leaving you to side-eye them as they get closer and closer to you - their volume becoming overbearing.

"Hey, what color should he -hic- dye his hair, d'you think your color would look -hic- good on 'em." Eren throws his arm back halting Jean and Connie as they approach you.

He smiles apologetically, "Sorry about them, they're a bit rowdy when drunk, but your hair is pretty."

You two make chit-chat in the isle, Connie and Jean had wandered off in search of food, while you offered advice on what color would suit him, and what kind of haircare to use to keep the color for longer.

He’ll pay attention to you as you speak- practically trying to drink you in; like a crow, he’ll get distracted by the glimmer and glittering jewelry that adorns your person. Mesmerized to a mind-fogging extent.

He invited you to one of his shows, a bit pouty when you tell him your aversion to louder cramped places, "Well maybe I could play something for just you?" A sly smirk plastered on his drunken face.

You get his number and finally talk yourself into inviting him over, opting for a movie night, and laying out a plethora of blankets and prized stuffed animals. The knock on your door startles you a little opening it, "Hey pretty girl", his dumb smile lazy across his lips, guitar in his ring-clad hand.

He adores your enthusiasm as you lay out the horror movie options, ultimately letting you pick whatever movie you want, "if we don't get through them all I guess I'll just have to come over again."

It felt cliche but he couldn't pay attention for the life of him, you were too, too much of everything, and eventually, when you relaxed into his arms he wanted to eat you; heart and soul.

The next couple of times he comes over, it becomes harder to ignore that desire.

He'll hold your thighs firmly in between his hands, the pads of his fingers rough from years of playing guitar. Licking a long stripe against your wet dripping hole, making you whine. "gotta stay still baby, wanna hear all your pretty noises, can't do that when you're runnin' away from me."

Nipping at the flesh of your inner thighs, one hand interlaced lazily with yours, the other working your body like you were the only thing he knew, drawing his fingers in and out in agonizingly long strokes.

saliva was spilling over your lips, mouth agape and gasping for him, " 'ren, 'ren too full, can't." In contrast to his hands, his hips work fast, too eager to feel you, his hands lifting your soft hips to him, practically bruising your cervix at this pace.

He's shirtless hovering over you, necklaces and hair sticking to his warm skin, "fuck baby, wish you could see yourself, god, gonna-"

Cum spilling out of you onto the flesh of your thighs and his abdomen, Eren collapses into a heap on top of you, his head laying in the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping at your shoulder, "you sound prettier than any love song."

❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚

Blue Jeans - Lana Del Rey

Favorite - Isabel LaRosa

Glue Song - Beabadoobee

Real Love Baby - Father John Misty

Homecoming - Kanye West, Chris Martin

Speed - Kali Uchis

She Wants My Money - Dominic Fike

I. Pink Toes - Childish Gambino

Power Trip - J.Cole, Miguel

Kiss - Prince

❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖❁˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚❁˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚

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jeannineee · 9 months

Text

Being mated to both Cassian and Azriel…

a/n: Just some headcanons!! The fact that they don’t exist irl should be a crime 😐 anywho…requests are open :)

nsfw under the cut (18+)

SFW:

It took a while for them to get acclimated with sharing you.

As we know, Fae males are territorial, and these two Illyrians are no exception. However, they both value their relationship with one another, and value you enough that they worked through their jealousy and insecurity.

On the topic of being territorial, Cas and Az are terrifying when it comes to you being threatened/harmed. Neither of them have any qualms against ripping apart anyone who would hurt you.

They’re both protective, but not overbearing. They know you can handle yourself, but also know when to jump in.

The three of you occasionally go on dates together, but they both need their alone time with you as well.

Azriel and Cassian would do absolutely anything for you. They worship the ground you walk on.

NSFW:

Oh boy!!

So, similar to dating, they need to have their own individual time with you, but they have no problem sharing you in the bedroom as well.

So let’s talk about when the three of you are together!!

Sex is never a dull experience with them. Ever.

They both lean towards being dominant, Azriel more so.

Azriel is more strict/harsh. Cassian is a soft dom, for sure.

As in, Azriel will be at his limit with your bratty behavior, ready to put you over his knee, and Cassian will say something to the extent of, “But she’s so good for us.”

Or Azriel will be edging you, and Cassian will be telling him to give in. To which Azriel tells Cassian that he gives in too easily.

They can both very rough, or the most tender lovers on the planet. Depends on everyone’s mood.

They love it when you take them both at the same time.

One of them in your mouth, and the other fucking you from behind is one of their favorite positions.

It goes without saying, but they’re both amazing at aftercare. Cleaning you up, making sure you’re hydrated and content.

Bonus:

You cannot tell me the batboys haven’t experimented w/ one another in their FIVE CENTURIES of being alive. I think once Azriel and Cassian are comfortable enough in your relationship, they’ll pleasure each other too.

See this fic and this fic for more details. 😌

Love you guys :)

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plutoslittlerkive · 7 months

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I want to love you.

Tate Frost x AFAB reader!

Hi babies I’m back with another banger or wtv those YouTube mfs be saying but yeah hii I’m taking another break from Tiktok (Princessofmagix) Lol you should follow I’m pretty and kinda funny! But yeah I recently got back into otome and visual novels and guys when I found Tate Frost..? I went bonkers so I wrote a lil something but guys, hear me when I say:

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS I’M NOT PLAYING WITH Y’ALL!

Warnings: Noncon, manipulation, Kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, triggering sexual themes, mentions of past trauma!

But yeah enjoy!

•

“You’re fucking crazy.” I spit. His eyes traveled like an elevator down my body, eye-fucking me in the process. You know I have to hand it to them, the people who warn others about manipulative men.

They weren’t kidding, this guy’s seriously an actor, even worse an artist. A con one at that but I couldn’t help but commend his artistry, even as I found myself bound to his bed by ropes and held down for him, like the perfect prey. He eyed me like it too.

The talent was crazy but I think part of me was more mad at myself than him, maybe because I took pride in the fact that I wasn’t naive, well, not as much as expected from a traumatized person.

Not to get too much into detail but I’ve been deceived, later healed enough to start giving out the benefit of the doubt but I wasn’t stupid, not enough to fall for obvious love bombing but THIS was anything but obvious…and yet again I’d been deceived.

Fooled to believe I’d been loved.

Usually, at this point, I would fear that I’d never love again, never trust again, but live? This situation goes beyond my wildest nightmares.

“Can you blame me Sha? You look divine like this…”

My eyes narrowed but his words made me dizzy. He always did, but that’s what love was; a disease. One I’d tolerate though couldn’t stomach but finally for the first time it made me sick, this man was a monster. I understand that perfectly well, yet my body still hasn’t gotten the memo.

He had access to every part of me now but he sat across the room and continued to taunt me.

“I hate you,” I say staring away at a wall

“Well, that’s a shame sweetness, 'cause I adore you~”, He smiled ever so sweetly.

“Shut up.” I glare but he shoots up and grabs my ankles pulling me towards him. I struggle and start to scream but he immediately grips my throat, my eyes widen, not from his harsh grip but from the cold metal I feel against my thigh.

Almost instantly my eyes began to water and I trembled beneath him. He stared down at me, his dominance utterly petrifying, but he wanted to make sure I understood my position, fully grasped the situation I was in.

He then softened his hand. I cautioned my breathing, too afraid that I might accidentally set him off enough to rid me of existence, but he leaned in and pressed his forehead against mine and simultaneously my tears fell.

“I thought you loved me…” I struggled

He pulls back and tilts his head.

“I do love you?” But I scoff

“You’re delusional. This isn’t love.”

“Oh and that’s where you’re wrong sweetness,” He keeps the blade steady but focuses on my eyes.

“Believe it or not I’m honored you decided to trust me enough to be that vulnerable with me. To let me into your past. I’ve listened to you, comforted you…and it’s all been out of love.”

I clenched my teeth and he slowly sunk the blade deeper, enough to scare me.

“And what kind of love equates to threatening to kill me?” I challenge, he smirks.

“Our kind.” He says before pulling the blade and his hand away, but his hand didn’t stray too far as he gently traced the curves of my hip. My breath hitched as I looked up at him.

“You see Sha, the difference between me and all your other relationships is that they didn’t really love you.” My face went cold as ice.

What is he-..?

“MY love for you is overbearing…so much that you can’t even take it. So much that it overwhelms you but,” He sets the knife aside. Leaning down he kisses up my thighs, stalking around my arousal, and I whimpered in anticipation.

“Even if you can’t understand, your body knows that I love you… and it knows I would never lie about that.” He says soothingly, his thick accent laced with allure.

My mind began to shift into fight or flight as his kisses grew closer to my core.

“Tate no please stop..!” And before he could touch me there, he pulled away and let out a sigh before leaving the room.

As I found myself in the room alone my heart began to race, bro this man was out of his damn mind. I took time to breathe but my eyes quickly got to work scanning around his room.

Prior, I never took the time to take in my surroundings the other times I was here.

I was too busy being blinded by his “act”, and my alibi had to be the fact that we never had sex before, he always respected my boundaries and I cherished that about him, knowing I’d never seen that gentleness in anybody else.

But it wasn’t even him actually, and I was currently in the room of a stranger, but if there was one thing I knew for sure, I couldn’t stay here!

Suddenly the door swung open. And there he was…with a deck of playing cards?

“You know I’m quite worried about you Sha, don’t trust me, don’t trust your own body, ” He locked the door before walking over to me

“But I don’t blame you, you’ve been through enough.” He pulled up a chair and sat next to me, reaching over I flinched as he gently wiped my stained cheek, though his touch only made me want to cry again.

“No matter, I thought we’d settle this with a game. Wanna see what your subconscious thinks?” I yanked away from his touch and turned away to the other side of the room, once again making friends with the wall.

“You’re disgusting, I don’t want to play shit with you.” I spat

He chuckled, “I’m afraid it’s the only way sweetheart, besides I think you’ll enjoy what I have in store if you win~”

My brows furrowed as I looked back at him.

Unless it was my freedom he had to be out of his mind entirely if he thought I’d enjoy anything else and right I was.

“I can see you're on edge but I’m being completely honest, I care about you. And because I’m not a total monster I’ll take how you feel into consideration.”

My brows furrowed even more as I stared into his eyes.

Gee, thanks.

“I trust your body so the rules are simple Sha,” He coos moving to sit beside me on the bed.

“I’ll hold up three cards, and if you can pick my favorite, you win.” He began to trail off

If I win…I’ll set you free.” My eyes widened.

Wait what- he can’t be serious… but the way he looked off into the distance, he meant what he said…he was serious, and I let out a shaky breath

“But if you win, I finally get to fuck you, and you’re mine.” My body lost all warmth, dread took hold of my body as I started to hyperventilate. I shook my head and pulled against the ropes.

“Tate n-no don’t do this p-please don’t-!“ He shuffled the deck, eyeing me as I struggled, begging him to have mercy. But it just made him smile.

“I’m serious, are you listening-?!” I screamed out. He put a finger up to his lips effectively hushing me, I knew well then to upset him.

“Tate I-“

“Pick one Y/N.” He immediately cuts me off.

As he held the cards in front of me I quickly broke into a cold sweat.

He could take everything from me… and I wouldn't be able to stop him.

I looked at the cards. I just had to get it wrong and the odds are in my favor but, I’m use to being so unlucky.

“The middle one…” I spoke meekly.

He immediately looked down at the cards, staying quiet. The suspense was killing me and I’d rather it did, anything to take me away from this man. Before I know it he looks up at me and smirks.

“I love you too Sweetness”,

Before I can think he throws the cards aside and crawls on the bed, dragging my hips up to his. I had no time to react as my throat tightened and tears dripped down my cheeks.

Just my luck.

He swiftly pulled down his boxers making my eyes widen, as he ran his tip along my lips.

“S’been a long time comin'” He chuckled aligning with my entrance.

I try once again to pull away, no longer caring about upsetting him.

“No p-please I can’t- you’re too big I won’t be able to take it-!” But it was too late and the pressure quickly entered my body. I winced as he slid in every inch, tears nonstop falling to the sheets as he kept a harsh grip on my hips.

“Fuck!” He hissed

I panted heavily trying to cope with the pain of feeling him so deep against me. I whimpered as he pulled my hips closer, raising one of my legs up to kiss along, as if he was trying to soothe me.

Keeping my leg up he thursted in me once more allowing his dick to reach a newer depth.

“You’re so fucking tight” He groaned lifting my hips to pick up the pace.

He was relentless and rough but I still couldn't adjust to his size as he forced my body to take him repeatedly. My body tensed as surges of pleasure felt like an electric current in my body every time our hips met.

“a-ah~ Tate please-!“

“What’s that baby, such a pretty little thing, do you feel good?“ He teased

I hated him. I swore I did but the way he towered over me, he was so much bigger, stronger than me and it showed in the way he manhandled my body, as if he truly owned me and I was his doll.

He slowed down and buried his face in my neck, focusing on precision rather than speed. He whispered sweet words in my ear, telling me he loved me and I was made for him...and that I was perfect.

I clung to him and held on as he kissed and sucked along my jaw even biting me, but everything felt so gentle, his ease caused my body to relax against him and I whimpered as I allowed myself to fully submit to him.

I would never make it out alive if I didn’t and part of me wanted to accept him. Maybe he did love me and I just didn’t understand. Or maybe being forced away from the rest of society was finally catching up to me? Either way, this was my life now.

As I came to the realization he gently pulled away slightly and wrapped a hand around my throat squeezing lightly, my body tensed pleasurably once again as I closed my eyes taking everything he gave me.

But when I felt him pull back to me I flinch and cry out suddenly as I felt consistent harsh vibrations against my clit. My mouth stayed open as I tried to take in the mass amount of sensation. My breath left me quickly as I arched my back into his growing fast pace.

“Do me a favor and hold this for me baby.”

The tears never faltered, though now they were a symbol of how good I felt, and my eyes fluttered as I looked up to him and the wand he rested above my clit.

“Tate...I’m so close I can’t-“ I cried but he pressed the wand down harder and stared down at me sternly.

“Hold it.“ He repeated.

I couldn’t tell in what way he meant but to play it safe I did both. Taking a hold of the wand I listened to him when he demanded I keep it in place. My body started to shake violently and I felt the overstimulation building up in my body. As I held it in place he let go of my neck and used both hands to hold my hips before thrusting harder.

My head instinctively falls back.

“May l cum please?“ I ask, tears still falling down my face.

“You plan on leavin’ me?” He asks

I started to pant heavily, desperately needing to let go.

“No, no I’m yours I promise I won’t leave, I’ll never leave-!” I struggle, beginning to find myself in a state of hysteria.

“I love you! I promise to stay,” I cry

He immediately takes hold of the wand allowing me to convulse, letting out a loud guttural moan as I came, gripping the sheets.

As I tried to come down from the high, he pulled the wand away and embraces me, thrusting harder to chase his release. I reach up and kiss along his neck trying to return the same feeling he previously gave me but, he quickly bit down hard on my neck trying to quiet himself as he came, pouring every last drop inside me.

He slowed down his thrusts before maneuvering me to lay on top of him and he stayed deep inside.

We soon caught our breath as I laid my head against his chest.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you…” I whispered, the weariness finally weighing down on me as I closed my eyes. He gently stroked my back pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.

“I forgive you baby” Was the last thing I heard before I fell asleep.

•

Guys c’mon now I can’t believe y’all let him scam y’all like that, what happened to the original plot of the movie?? But seriously if you guys ever find yourself in a situation like this it’s absolutely not healthy please don’t be afraid to seek help! This is purely fantasy! Lol but yeah thank you for reading I love y’allz <3

Likes, comments and reblogs are so appreciated!

#tate frost x reader #tate frost #tate frost smut #frostbite #tate frost x reader fanfic #tate frost x reader smut #frostbite scopophobia studios #scopophobia studios #otome #visual novel #tate frost fanfic #it’s cuffing szn #or wtv sza said

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sprout-fics · 9 months

Note

I feel like Ghost would be an alpha who isn’t super in your face if you’re an omega. He is more of a silent presence, lingering there, ready when needed. The first to bring things for a nest, the first to detect when something is off with his omega. Just nowhere near as domineering as he’s sometimes represented in Omegaverse. Dominant in scenarios, yes, but not domineering.

So I'm actually going back to my forced designation switch alpha Ghost for this, (despite saying I wouldn't revisit it) because the more I think about this the more I really want to incorporate it into this story.

TW: Similarities to conversion therapy, details of canonical sexual assault

I think, if we're considering Ghost as an omega prior to his forced transition, he absolutely remembers what it was like to deal with that. He likely hid it from his family, given his father's abuse, so as to not cause more harm to himself. So he understands Reader when she admits she purposefully concealed herself for quite some time due to biases in the military. An omega, and a woman? To say the chances are stacked against her is an understatement.

I also think this allows him a unique perspective. He knows what it's like to hide heats, to always be on edge around alphas, to watch your back all the time and to be ashamed of who you were born as. He picks up the subtleties in you, is the first to whiff out a pre-heat, to notice the alarmed spike in your scent. It makes him all the more protective over you, knowing the evil that's out there that threatens you because of your designation. Yet he doesn't become overbearing, because he also understands that the presence of a heavy-handed alpha might make you nervous, on edge given your prior experiences with alphas. He knows that too, have lived a life before this similar to your own. It makes him a better alpha, not only because he's receptive, sympathetic to his omega mates, but because he's lived it.

I think Ghost has a very complicated relationship with his status as an alpha, and with sex in general. He's comfortable where he is now with the team, but only because they are fully aware of what has happened to him, and as a result know how to handle him when it becomes too much, when he remembers Roba, the torture, the fact that he used to be different.

Becoming an Alpha was in some ways a relief for Ghost. He didn't have to struggle anymore with concealing himself, with potentially losing his service if he was revealed. Some would say he's better for it, can now be the perfect example of a lethal soldier because of his alpha status

But it was at a wicked cost.

It came at the cost of his autonomy, his dignity, it came with pain and trauma and horrifying flashbacks that continue to haunt him. It fundamentally changed him, emotionally, psychologically, and physically. Even after Simon escaped and put an end to Roba it wasn't over. His body changed, reformed itself. He grew taller, stronger, bulkier, more muscular. He had to get used to not being at home in his body, to instincts that were unfamiliar and overwhelming. He was suddenly dealt with as an entirely different person while he was dealing with the aftermath of his trauma, the grief of losing his entire family, the erasure of his identity in order to survive.

I think that's where the team comes in as well. Price was there for Simon in the immediate aftermath of his transition, helped him through the newness of being an alpha. When Simon's first rut came, he was borderline uncontrollable- brain chemical haywire, rebelling against themselves in a vain effort to revert back to their original omega state, competing with the the alpha instincts to rut, chase, breed. In my personal interpretation, with was Price who acted as a partner for Simon during this time, as Simon could not be trusted with an omega partner. He was fully aware of Simon's trauma, like had dealt with traumatized soldiers before, had the experience of being an alpha, and had...other experience to bring to the table as well. He coaxed Simon through his rut and as a result the two formed a deep trust with each other that extended far beyond the realm of camaraderie and friendship, and eventually led to more romantic implications

Then comes Soap, this rebellious spitfire omega who has concealed his designation and by all appearances is an alpha just like Price and Simon. We knows how this story goes. Ghost slowly falls for Johnny, doesn't act on it, yearns and pines in angst over how he could possibly dream of Johnny accepting him, and how he could possibly be a good alpha to him. Johnny wriggles his way into Simon's heart anyways, knocks on his soul and carves inside inch by inch, and Ghost slowly lets him, until at last Simon finds out he can be a good alpha, and that all it took was one feisty omega sergeant to tell him that

Ghost, at least in this story, still struggles with these things. They never quite leave him. He's extremely hesitant to spend his ruts with anyone other than Soap, and takes a significant amount of time to allow himself to be intimate with Price and Gaz. For you, he refuses your assistance for his ruts for the first few cycles, too nervous about hurting you despite how much he wants you. Soap has to coax him into it, has to teach him he's okay, that he is not his abusers, and stays with you both the first few times you are intimate with each other as Simon slowly works through this particular aspect of his trauma. It takes time, but Ghost finds he can be a good alpha to you too, that his forced switch and the consequences of it do not define him.

Holy SHIT that was a long answer. I just wrote an essay. Apologies, I've been thinking a lot about this concept, and despite the heart breaking details of it, I think it adds a deeply fascinating aspect to Ghost's character in this AU that fits within the realm of his existing canonical trauma. Thank you so so much for letting me ramble.

#alpha ghost #omega ghost #cod omegaverse

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darkbluekies · 11 months

Text

Hunted

Female!yandere!mafia OC x reader

Summary: you know that Jerry is insane ... so why did you ever try to escape her?

Warnings: unhealthy relationships, guns, killing animals and humans, bullet wounds

Word count: 3.1k

Jerry could realize her mistake of not locking the door to your room any minute and by then you want to be gone. With legs full of electricity, you hurry out of the room and sneak through the corridors, silently hoping that you won’t meet anyone on the way. Thankfully, the most trusted ones are still at dinner and the rest … wasted. You can tell someone lying blacked out on a couch with an empty liquor bottle in his hands. Quickly, you run past him.

The front doors have an alarm system that will go off once you open the door. You hover your trembling hand over the handle, preparing yourself mentally. The second those sirens go off, you have to run and not look back. You breathe out heavily. It’ll be easier said than done. You know for sure that the second the loud beeping starts, you’ll be so mortified that you’ll forget every single movement you’ve learned.

Finally, you do it. You rip the door open and the signals go off as planned. Without looking back, you run as if you’ve never run before.

The ground beneath you is unsteady, telling you that it’s most likely a forest Jerry’s been keeping you captive in. Your heart is pounding in your ears, legs burning. You can’t hear if someone is following you and frankly … you’re not stopping to find out.

You run until the sun rises and by then your legs are non existent. You can’t feel anything. Tired, you slump down with your back against a tree. With heavy breaths, you try to collect yourself and think of what you’ve done. Just two hours ago, Jerry took you to the bedroom of the secluded base. You had been forced to spend the entire evening with the most trusted mafia members, dining with them and joining in on a dangerous game of poker. You have never seen Jerry as focused as you did then. In the end, you had asked Jerry to leave, because of a ‘headache’. She had followed you to the bedroom and then left you … without locking the door.

“What do I do?” you pant for yourself while looking around. “Where do I go?”

No one will answer you, no one will help you. But hearing your own voice in this silent forest gives you some comfort.

You know you shouldn’t stay in one place too long. It wouldn’t surprise you if Jerry has put a GPS tracker in your body. You’ve always known that Jerry is insane. Ever since that day she decided that you would be hers. But you could never have anticipated how crazy she really was. If you ever met the devil, it would be her. Jerry’s ignorant, selfish and overbearing.

You sigh and pull the checkered cardigan closer to hide the scratch marks Jerry's acrylic nails have left on your body. They're a sign of dominance and ownership. Wherever you go, everyone around — including you — knows that you belong to Jerry. It wouldn't surprise you in the slightest if she put a GPS tracker in your body.

A loud bang echoes. Gun shots. You gasp and press yourself closer to the tree. Something falls in front of your feet. Quickly, you shut your eyes. When you dare to take a peak, you see a dead crow in front of you. It's bleeding from its chest and the black eyes stare right at you.

"Hah, got it!" you hear an eccentric voice shout.

You turn your head to see four men in their early sixties hurry in your direction. They hold hunting gear in their hands.

"Oh?" one of them says upon noticing you. "We're sorry miss/sir, we didn't see you. You're not hurt, are you?"

"No", you breathe out.

"What are you doing so far out in the woods at this time of day? The sun just exposed herself."

"What are you doing?" you return the question rather passively. "You could hurt someone …"

One of the men smiles and picks up the bird by its feet. You feel sorry for the little creature.

"We're hunters", he smiles. "Part time."

"We have to get away from our nagging wives one way or another", another chuckles.

The chuckle is warm and genuine, reminding you of your dad. You think that these men must have their own children and suddenly pity your father. Why did his child have to become the pet of a criminal? He doesn't know if you're alive or not. And you intend to keep it that way. The less your family knows about your whereabouts, the better for them and for you.

"You should consider yourself pretty lucky that we didn't notice you earlier", one of the men says and holds out his hand to you. "We would have thought that you were a deer."

You take his hand and he drags you up on your feet. You wobble and fall back against the tree, leaning onto the bark.

"What's wrong?" one of the men asks.

"Nothing, just … tired", you say. "I've been on my feet a long time."

"Get up on my back, I'll carry you."

You hesitate. "Are you sure?"

"I've carried two bear cubs over one shoulder, I can take you."

You climb up on his back and follow the four hunters back to their wooden cabin.

"Do you live here?" you ask.

"No, hunters can borrow it when they're out here", the man who first noticed you says. "As long as you clean up after yourself."

They let you rest in one of the beds and give you some of the meat they've caught. While you're eating, they tell you how they became friends in school during the 70's and stayed together until now. They tell you about their families, their jobs and pets.

"We're going home tomorrow afternoon", Phil — the man who took the crow — says. "If you'd like, you can join us."

You hesitate. Frankly, you haven't decided on where you should go or what you should do. Going back out into civilization could get you recognized, but staying out in the forest could mean life or death. You're safer in the city.

"Thank you, I'd like that", you say.

The morning after, the hunters leave the cabin for one last hunt. You lay still in bed and breathe in the silence. Finally, you’re left alone without feeling like there’s someone breathing down your neck … although you can’t let yourself fully relax yet. Somewhere out there, Jerry is looking for you and you know that she won’t stop until she finds you. It’s a scary feeling. You’re just waiting for the moment she has you trapped, like a mouse in a trap. But here, Jerry isn’t the brown little mouse … she’s the big, gray cat.

Your thinking is interrupted by four loud gun shots.

Your thinking is interrupted by small sounds outside the cabin. Sounds of footsteps.

“Is there anyone in there?” a man says.

“It’s a hunters cabin, probably hunters”, another voice answers.

“Shouldn��t we check? Y/N could hide in there anyway.”

You freeze upon hearing your name. Quickly, you get out of bed and sneak towards the window. Carefully, you look outside to get a glimpse of how many people have surrounded you. There’s five. From what you can see, Jerry isn’t with them. You decide to wait for a while before moving. Maybe they’ll leave. Maybe you’ll be okay.

“No, I think we should check it”, a new voice says. “I don’t trust that little shit one bit.”

Jerry!

You stumble backwards and look around for somewhere to hide. You crawl into a shelf under the counter and manage to close the little door just in time. You can hear Jerry’s shoes hitting the wooden floor as she walks around in the little house. Your heart is pounding in your chest, it’s almost as if you’re dizzy. And then … the footsteps stop. The front door shuts. You know that you can’t stay here. The hunters will expose you and you will put their lives at risk.

Right then, the door swings open. You’re about to scream when you see the same hunter who carried you yesterday. He’s bloody and the look in his eyes scream of horror.

“W-What happened?!” you gasp and hurry over.

“There were people shooting at us!” he moans and waves at her to come closer. “I’ll take you on my back. I’m scared they’ll find you too if you stay here. There are only the two of us left.”

Too shocked to think, too scared to disobey, you climb up on the old mans back. He runs out the house and you hang onto for dear life.

"Oh, you fucker!" you hear Jerry shout behind you. "I fucking knew it!"

They were still there? If you'd have known you wouldn't have left the cabin. Too late to turn back.

“Please hurry!” you plead the man. “Run faster, please! Oh, please!”

Jerry stops abruptly.

"What's the matter?" one of the men says in confusion. "Aren't you going to chase after? Are you going to let them go?"

"I'm not making a fool out of myself", Jerry replies shortly and picks up a gun from her pocket. "I'm not in the mood for a game of 'Cat & Mouse'."

"Are you going to kill Y/N?" another asks, horrified. "I thought you liked them!"

"I'm not going to kill Y/N", Jerry replies and directs the gun towards you, closing one eye to get a better view. "I'm going to kill that old man and take out my little shit my way."

She hits the man in the leg. He falls over and you drop before rolling over the roots in the ground. The air gets knocked out of your lungs. You hit your head and dark spots starts swirling around your vision. You lay on your back, trying to regain consciousness. Quickly, you grasp the situation. You have to get up, you have to run. If you run … you might actually have a chance of getting away. It’s better than to give up.

You get up from the ground, out into the crossfire. Jerry scoffs with a wicked smile. You’re tougher than she thought. She keeps her eye locked on you, gun directed towards your feet. One bullet should be enough to get you to stop. She pulls the trigger and watches how you fall over with a painful scream. Satisfied, she puts her gun back in her pocket and starts to walk over to you. You're trying to crawl by dragging your arms forward. Jerry snickers at the sight. She walks over and grabs a fistful of your hair, lifting your chin up from the ground.

"Don't try to crawl now, little mouse", she smirks. "I've got you in my trap. Look at the man beside you. Look at him. Do you fell happy that you put his life on the line?"

One of her men shoots the man to death while she forces you to watch. Jerry pulls your head back even more. You glare at her with tears in your eyes.

“Leave me alone!” you scream at her and moan in pain.

Jerry glances down at your feet and hums. Your left foot is leaking red. She lets go of your hair and signals for two of her men to pick you up. They grab your arms, lifting you swiftly.

"You're not a very good partner, Y/N", she says jokingly and squeezes your cheeks with one hand. "Running around from me and hanging out with older men. Dear God. If you'd just have gone to bed like a good pet, neither of us would be here now."

You don't answer. If you do, you'll have to pay for it.

The men carry you to Jerry's black van and throw you in the back. Jerry jumps in and holds you in her arms as the van drives off. Your head rests in her lap. You can feel her nails digging into your body as she holds you still when the van bumps. Your head is spinning from the injury, you're not sure how much blood you've lost.

Jerry watches how your eyes flutter shut.

"Y/N?" she asks and shakes you when you don't respond. "Y/N!"

She looks down at your foot and hisses. Quickly, she removes her black zip-up hoodie and ties it tightly around your ankle where the bullet wound is. She holds your face in her hands, caressing it softly.

"Don't be so dramatic", she whispers. "It's just … i-it's just a bullet wound. In the foot, not anywhere brutal. You've survived worse."

She leans down and places a peck on your forehead. In the corner of her eyes, she can tell that one of the drivers is glancing at her in the rear view mirror.

"Keep your fucking eyes on the road before I pluck them put with tweezers", she spits. "You have no business looking at what I'm doing here."

She can feel her cheeks burning as she looks back at you. If those men ever talk about this she's going to decapitate them with a butter knife.

She takes out the bullet herself once you return to the base. Two men lie you down on a table and Jerry gets to work. You’re still unconscious, which she thinks is only for the best. You’ll not have to witness the bloody scene that unfolds … or feel it, for that matter. Jerry works fast to remove the bullet and cover your ankle and foot in clean, white bandage.

"Carry them to the bedroom", she orders one of the men.

A man picks you up in his arms and carries you through the corridors to the same room you escaped from just a day earlier. Jerry places you straight on your back with your foot on a pillow. She tucks you in, making sure that all limbs are covered by blankets.

“Do you want to stay here?” the man asks. “I can tell the boss that you’re in need of solitude.”

“If you say that, you’ll make me sound like a fair maiden”, Jerry mutters. “Don’t tell him that. Tell him I need to punish my filthy, little runaway.”

“Whatever you want, Jerry.”

With that said, he leaves. Jerry sits down on the side of your bed and takes one of your hands in hers. She examines your knuckles, silently wanting them on her. Your touch is the only thing that can tame her. Without you, she’s wild. Carefully, she lifts your hand to her lips, kissing it.

“Jerry?” your voice says quietly.

“Hm?” she asks and lowers your hand.

“W-What … what did you do to me? Did … d-did you shoot me?! It hurts …”

Your eyes are full of tears. Jerry frowns, squeezing your hands tighter.

“I had to”, she answers. “You disobeyed me. You ran away from me. I had to make sure you wouldn’t do it again. You belong to me. I fucking need you.”

“But did you have to shoot me?” you whimper.

“Your little legs have a life of their own and they don’t care about your well being. If I’d let your legs keep running, you’d be dead. Now, you need to keep your leg straight, don’t sleep on your side or your stomach. You should stay in bed for a while with your foot on this pillow.” She smiles slightly, thinking. “As long as you’re bedridden I can keep an easy eye on you.”

You grimace. “I hate you and everything you do to me.”

Jerry chuckles. “You and your foul mouth, baby. I’m going to go get something for you to eat and when I come back, you better apologize. If you know what’s good for you.”

Jerry stands up and leaves, closing the door behind her. You sigh out annoyed. Jerry will be the death of you — figuratively and literally. You glance towards the (not locked) door. You can’t get in more trouble than you already am. Quickly, you get out of the bed and jump on one foot to the door. You only have time to open it and limp out into the corridor before Jerry’s back, holding a microwaved pan pizza on a plate in her hands. You expect her to frown, to make any type of angry face … but she smirks.

“Oh, you are so fucked, Y/N”, she says. “Get back in bed. Now. Before I shoot your other foot too.”

You gulp and glare before you turn around and limp back to the bed. Jerry closes the door behind her.

“Now, what do you say?” she says tauntingly. “Are you going to apologize for saying that you hate me … and for trying to run away a second time?”

“Not a chance.”

The sweet smell of melted cheese and pepperoni and the stinging pain of a bullet wound clashes. You haven’t eaten all day.

“Hating me won’t get you what you want”, Jerry reminds you.

“Even if I apologize, I won’t get what I want … you hurt me, you killed the men helping me … they were innocent”, you say quietly.

“You should be happy that I didn’t do more for what you did, Y/N. I give you everything I have, I do my best to give you the love I have … and it’s a fucked up type of love, I know, but at least I don’t pretend to be better than I am. You always know where you have me.”

You don’t answer. Jerry sighs heavily and lifts the pizza in her hand.

“Fine, don’t apologize then”, she says and holds the plate to you. “Take it. I’m not eating a cold pizza and it’s cooling down so … eat it.”

You take a bite and almost burn your tongue on the pizza slice and glance up at Jerry’s eyes. She doesn’t meet yours.

“Jerry … the pizza is burning hot”, you whisper, frowning.

“Well … now you’ve started eating it … just eat the rest”, she mutters and shrugs.

“O-Oh, I see … thank you, Jerry.”

“Mhm.” She stands up. “Sleep now. I’ll be back later to make sure you’re still here. If you’re not, I’ll raise Hell. Trust me.” She walks to the door and stops. “I’m only nice to you because you’re hurt. Don’t get used to it.”

With that said, she walks out and locks the door. And so, you’re back on square one, with less than you had before … and lives on your consciousness. You gulp. Oh, how you hate Jerry for what she’s done. And oh, how much you hate that she’s the only one that forgives and forgets the troubles you put yourself in — the only one who stays by your side no matter what.

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